Lessons
by Periphery
Summary: The Pharaoh has left in search of a body. Seto makes an unexpected request. Enemies may not be so inimicial. Yugi is hiding something. Joey takes a stand. And all the timing really sucks.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh. Did you really think I did?_

_A/N: This will be quite a bit longer than my previous stories. I also plan to update more often, since I really want to get this done by the time school starts. Preferably by the end of July, but I don't think that's an option anymore, so bear with me. Also please note that I am not a professional in any way, shape, or form, and I may make factual errors. Please be kind._

**Prologue: Departures**

* * *

_Few words have the innate power to terrify people like the word "fraction."_

_-W. Michael Kelly_

_The Complete Idiot's Guide to Algebra_

* * *

"Algebra," Yugi sighed, "makes my eyes itch." He put his head down on the desk in his room and shoved his homework as far away as it would go.

This turned out to be the floor.

"Maybe you're just tired," Yami put in. The spectral form of the ancient pharaoh was lounging against the window, through which the oppressively black sky could be seen. It was late, and school wasn't out for the summer quite yet.

"Algebra _always _makes my eyes itch," Yugi mumbled, his words muffled by the desktop.

"I thought you _liked _algebra. Though I must admit, I can't figure out why."

Yugi stood and picked up the book. "I hate algebra," he said wearily, stuffing it into his bookbag. "It's pointless and complicated."

"Then I'm glad I don't have to know it," Yami remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, be quiet." Yugi sank onto the bed and rubbed his eyes.

"I will not." Yami suddenly sounded serious. "I need to talk to you."

"Can't it wait until tomorrow? Like, during algebra?"

Yami ignored the last part. "It can't wait until tomorrow because I plan to leave tomorrow."

"Leave?" This got Yugi's attention. "Where are we going?"

"Not _us, _Yugi. Just me."

Yugi opened his mouth and closed it again, and Yami took advantage of his silence. "I've decided it's high time I gained a body of my own. I'm leaving for the Shadow Realm in the morning."

_What?_ Yugi was having a hard time processing information. "The Shadow Realm? How would that work? And why do you – "

Yami held up a hand, effectively silencing him again. "It will be better this way. If I have my own body, I won't have to keep putting you and your friends in danger." He knew Yugi wouldn't argue with the part about his friends.

Sure enough, Yugi scowled at him. "That's not fair," he muttered. At Yami's stern look he sighed. "Okay. I'm not giving in, but how would you do this, anyway?"

"The Shadow Realm," Yami explained, "is a law unto itself. It had a certain authority in our world, as well as the world of the monsters, although it doesn't usually get involved. It _can _give me a body. The question is whether or not it _will._"

"But why now?" Yugi wanted to know. "Why not, say, a year ago?"

"Because I didn't realize it was a possibility a year ago."

Yugi's expression cleared. "You've been exploring your mind again."

"Yes." Yami grimaced. "Such a complicated place it is."

"You," Yugi said in an affected tone, "are a complicated person."

"_Because _my mind is so complicated."

"That too. Now about this supposed quest – "

"Yugi."

"Yes?" Yugi looked at the spirit, all wide eyes and innocence.

"Stop. I leave in the morning."

"I was _going _to say, how would you _ask _the Shadow Realm for help?"

"Oh." Yami relaxed against the windowsill. "It's simple, really. The Realm knows who enters and who leaves. If it deems me worthy of an audience, it will grant me one."

"You can't just wander around the Shadow Realm by yourself," Yugi pointed out practically. "It's dangerous."

"Not _that _dangerous. I can protect myself."

"But . . . it could take weeks, couldn't it?"

"Yugi. Listen to me. It is a risk, but it's _my _risk. Not your risk. Not Joey's, or Tea's, or Tristan's." Yami stared hard at the boy, willing him to understand.

Yugi sighed, weighing the Puzzle in both hands. "Please, be careful."

"I intend to keep myself safe, thank you." Yami straightened up and rested a hand on Yugi's shoulder. "I'll see you when I get back."

"It might not work anyway, right?" Yugi asked hopefully.

"That's right." Yami suddenly remembered, helped along by Yugi's wide yawn, how late it was. He released his shoulder. "Good night, Yugi."

"Good night."

Some time later, after Yami had retired to the Puzzle room, Yugi thought of something. /Hey, Pharaoh./

/Yes/

/If you get a body of your own, you might have to know algebra./

A groan came over the link. /Go to sleep, Yugi./

* * *

_One week later_

Seto Kaiba was angry. No, that wasn't right. Seto was purely, simply _furious._

"Tell me your name again," he growled at the woman in front of him. She looked to be a few years older than he, though he had a good six inches on her. The man behind him, on the other hand –

There was someone there, half-hidden in the shadows. Seto felt sure of this, and equally sure that he was not supposed to know. There were probably more: one he could have taken care of, but he did not dare strike without proper knowledge.

"Cintya," said the woman, infuriatingly patient. "Cintya Kabat."

"Kabat. Let me speak to your boss. I'm sure she can be – ah – _persuaded _to – "

"Madam Echeverria is busy at the moment," she interrupted. "If you have any questions I will be happy to –"

"Of course I have questions!" he barked, making her jump. "I flew out here in the middle of the night and all you've told me is your name and 'no'!"

She flinched as he all but spat the last words but did not back away, instead launching into a speech that sounded prepared. "You need not worry about your brother; he will be kept safe and taken care of until you manage to defeat Madam Echeverria and myself in a tag-team double duel – "

"I'm alone here, in case you hadn't noticed."

Exasperation flared in her eyes. "_Patience_, Mr. Kaiba," she snapped.

Startled, Seto took an involuntary step back. She looked just as shocked at her own outburst but quickly recovered her composure.

"Mr. Kaiba, please be patient; I'm getting there. The duel shall take place under the following conditions: that if you are the victor, you brother will be returned to you unharmed and you will be allowed to leave; that if you are defeated, control of KaibaCorporation will be given over to Madam Echeverria – "

"What about Mokuba?" Seto interrupted.

" – and then you and your brother will be allowed to leave." A flutter passed over her face, as though she didn't like what she was saying.

_Bait, _Seto thought in disgust. "I'm still waiting for the part about the tag-team."

"Oh, that." Cintya laughed nervously, as though she knew what she was about to say was slightly ridiculous. "You will be given time to contact a partner and for him – or her – to get here. We _will_ provide transportation."

She was still smiling, but Seto did not find the situation the least bit amusing. "How about I simply duel Echeverria one on one?"

"I'm afraid that isn't an option."

"I'm afraid that wasn't a suggestion, Kabat."

"Cintya."

"Kabat."

She scowled at him, transforming her expression to confident. "My orders, _sir,_ come directly from Madam Echeverria. You are no longer in Domino where you command respect. In fact, you are no longer in Japan at all. You are in China – not in any city or even town, I might add – and while you are here, the word of Massimina Echeverria is law."

* * *

_TBC . . ._

_I live on reviews. Please, please, take a few seconds to tell me what you thought. If you want to flame, please sign in or leave your e-mail so I can flame you back. Thank you._


	2. GO

_Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh._

_A/N: Special thanks go out to**KaNdRaKaRgrl** and **Kaay-chan** (just because), and Cathy, for being genuinely interested. And nit-picky. (I'll fix it!) __Thanks also to **Kaay-chan **again and **crystal ice614 **(I'll get back to you) for reviewing. _

**Chapter One: GO**

* * *

_Do not anticipate trouble, or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight._

_--Benjamin Franklin_

* * *

_"You are no longer in Domino where you command respect. In fact, you are no longer in Japan at all. You are in China; and while you are here, the word of Massimina Echeverria is law."_

* * *

"Money, Kabat," Seto informed her, "has an influence no matter where you are."

"Not here, I'm afraid."

She didn't look afraid, not anymore. Seto was glad; he had no patience for fear.

On the other hand, confidant Kabat had him on the retreat, inch by inch.

Seto growled under his breath. "Why is the tag-team thing so important anyway?"

She burst out laughing and he stared at her, wondering why on earth she found this funny. As she put her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles, he quickly decided that he had no patience for this either. "_Well?_" He tried to make his voice as menacing as possible.

It worked; she stopped laughing, though still looked as though she might start at any moment. "Do you _really _want to know?"

"Yes . . . "

"You can't tell her I told you, or I'll be thrown out."

"Believe me," Seto said dryly, "I have no intention of ever saying a civil word to the woman."

She laughed again but stopped the instant he started to glare and ducked her head apologetically, making her long brown ponytail waggle. "It's because she's hopeless at dueling. I mean _hopeless._ She needs me to keep her above water. And a two-on-one duel isn't fair. It _has _to seem fair so she can't get sued – that's what she says anyway. When she talks. Michael and I – " She stopped abruptly. "Ranting. Sorry."

"You can't be all that good," Seto observed. "I've never heard of you." He wondered if Michael was the figure he had seen in the shadows and hoped, bizarrely, that he was.

Kabat's smile evaporated. "I . . . never got a chance to play the circuits. I went to a couple of tournaments when I was very young, but then my mother got strict. She works us hard. I don't have time."

Seto didn't bother to sort out the pronouns, or to point out that _he _had found the time to attend high school, run a large company, and still make himself famous among duelists. Instead he changed the subject abruptly, saying, "You're sure there's no way to get around the tag-team."

"Quite sure."

"No way at all."

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Kaiba." The way she said it precluded any further argument.

"Where is Mokuba?"

Her back stiffened almost imperceptibly. "That's classified information, sir."

"Do you mean to tell me," Seto said dangerously, "that you won't let me see my own brother?"

"He's supposed to be being kidnapped," she said and winced. "I'm sorry. I suggest you get in touch with a dueling partner. Direct them to the nearest airport tomorrow at eleven a.m. our time. Then you may tell me where our plane should fly; Mi – someone will meet them."

A sound somewhere between a snarl and a sigh escaped Seto. He turned his back on her and stomped away, pulling out his cell phone as he went.

He hated to do it. It killed him. But there was only one person to call.

And the game shop was on speed dial.

* * *

Yugi still wore the Millennium Puzzle. He wasn't quite sure why; maybe because his friends were sure to ask questions if he left it off, and he didn't feel like giving answers. OR maybe because he wanted to know right away if the Pharaoh returned unsuccessful. Or maybe – and this, he felt, was the most likely – he was simply used to it.

"I hate you," Tristan was saying to Joey in a defeated voice. He let his head drop to the floor as Joey cackled and gathered up a rather large stack of cards.

Joey and Tristan were celebrating the last day of school by sprawling on the carpet and playing War, which, Tristan had solemnly explained, was completely mindless, and therefore exactly what they needed. Tea, curled up on the couch in the TV room back of the game shop, was scrupulously dividing her attention among her book, the card game, and the show that Yugi was pretending to watch.

In reality, Yugi was silently egging on the game, hoping it would last for hours, because it was so much fun to watch his friends get frustrated. Joey had just managed to pull back from the very brink of defeat.

Of course, in a game of luck, that wasn't much of an accomplishment.

It was ten minutes later, when Joey was the one banging his head against the floor, that the door creaked open and Grandpa stuck his head inside. "Yugi. Phone."

"Thanks, Gramps." _Who could that be? _Yugi took the phone from his grandfather and leaned against the wall. "Hello?"

"Yugi. I need your help."

Yugi almost dropped the phone. Not only was Seto Kaiba on the other end, but he was asking his arch-rival for assistance. Yugi briefly considered asking what had happened to the real Kaiba, but decided that that would not go over well. "_My _help? With what?"

"A duel, what else? Tag-team. Listen, Yugi, this lady is very unreasonable and I can't convince her to duel one-on-one."

"Gee, I don't know . . . " Yugi was thinking of his Puzzle, and of Yami, and wondering how well he would be able to duel on his own.

"It's for Mokuba," Kaiba said immediately.

" . . . Oh." The TV suddenly seemed very loud; Tristan was crowing excitedly and Joey was threatening horrible revenge. "I'll do what I can."

"Good."

For a moment they discussed particulars. "Oh, I suppose your little friends can come along if they must," Kaiba said in exasperation when Yugi started to ask.

Yugi smiled. He and Kaiba weren't close; they didn't even like each other, and yet each could tell what the other was thinking. Was that messed up, or what? "So I guess I'll see you soon?"

"Unfortunately," Kaiba growled and hung up.

Yugi let the phone drop, feeling slightly stunned. There went their plans for the next few days. What would his friends say?

Then he thought, _What if they don't want to come?_

That was a scary thought. Yugi was already dueling without the Pharaoh; he didn't want to be completely alone.

Well. Only one way to find out.

"Who was that?" Tea asked disinterestedly as Yugi slowly returned to the group.

"Kaiba."

"_What?"_ All three said it at once; Tea's book tumbled off her lap, and both boys dropped their stacks of cards.

"Kaiba?" Joey repeated incredulously. "What'd he want with you?"

"Help." Yugi perched on the arm of the couch. "Looks like I'm dueling again."

"Kaiba asking for help," Tristan mused. "I'd've liked to see that."

"So where is he?" Joey wanted to know.

"No idea. He just said to be at the airport at noon tomorrow."

"Oh, fun." Tea sighed and stretched out on the couch so that her feet touched the arm Yugi was sitting on. "I was planning to _sleep _till noon tomorrow."

"Me too," Joey and Tristan said together.

"You guys don't have to come," Yugi said quickly, even though that was exactly what he was afraid of.

"Stop arguing already," Joey snorted, throwing his cards at him.

"You worry too much," Tea added.

"Joey," Tristan said, "seeing as how your cards are all over the floor, I think I just won."

* * *

Seto had long ago decided that worrying was unproductive. He wasn't about to start now. Instead, he gave Kabat directions to Domino's airport, followed her to a small but nicely furnished bedroom, and tried to think of something constructive to do.

He came up with squat.

Seto checked his watch in the afternoon sunlight and calculated the hours until Yugi would arrive, the minutes until the duel would be over, and the seconds until life could go back to normal.

* * *

The Shadow Realm was a lonely place to spend any length of time.

Although time, in the other dimension, did not pass normally. Yami couldn't tell whether he had been gone two hours or two days; it could have been years for all he knew.

All he knew was black, and purple, and walking. Endless, interminable wandering, hoping to eventually get somewhere.

He wondered, sometimes, how Yugi and his friends were doing, back home. He always stopped quickly, because there was nothing to wonder. Life in Domino City had been uneventful of late. There was no reason to believe that would change.

Really, what could happen?

* * *

Yugi packed slowly and methodically. He hated not knowing how long he was going to be gone. It probably wouldn't be long, but he crammed things into his duffle anyway.

He jumped when his grandfather came through the door. "Grandpa! Don't – _do _that – could you please knock first?"

Grandpa laughed at the expression on Yugi's face. But then his gaze traveled over the half-packed duffle bag sitting on the bed, and he seemed to remember why he had come. He sighed and sat down heavily on the bed.

"Are you leaving me again?"

Yugi was tired, his head was pounding, and he _really_ did not want to deal with this right now. He had to take a deep breath while facing away before he could turn slowly and sit down next to his grandfather. "It's just for a few days. I'll be back before you know it."

"And will I hear about this duel?"

"Don't you always?" Yugi knew, even as he said it, that it was a lie.

Grandpa saw through it too. "Hmph," he snorted, shifting on the bed. "Never hear about what you do anymore. You're always gallivanting off somewhere. Should I be worried about this?"

"Depends on what you mean by worried," Yugi responded, closing his eyes wearily. "If you mean, am I doing something wrong, then no. And this duel shouldn't be too bad. Straightforward."

"I don't know what it is, Yugi," his grandfather sighed, "but nothing is ever straightforward with you."

Later, after Grandpa had left, Yugi sat and held his Millennium Puzzle in both hands. He shifted it back and forth, testing its weight. Then he hung it on the post at the foot of his bed and went to sleep.

When he got up in the morning, he left it there.

* * *

_TBC . . ._

_C'mon lurkers! I know you're out there, and you know who you are! It only takes half a minute. Pretty please?_


	3. STOP

_Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh or Calvin and Hobbes._

_A/N: I think now would be a good time to point out that I am not an expert on planes, medicine, or anything relating to those topics. I am taking advantage of the label of Yugioh ashavinga futuristic setting. Bear with me._

_Sorry this chapter is so late. I have just returned from vacation in a mysterious place where the interstate is pink and the moon is huge. Any guesses?_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter Two: STOP**

* * *

"_Change is invigorating! If you don't accept new challenges, you become complacent and lazy! Your life atrophies!" . . . . . _

"_The problem with new experiences is that they're so rarely the ones you choose."_

_--Bill Watterson, Calvin and Hobbes_

* * *

Tea fell asleep before the plane took off. Joey and Tristan stayed on their feet, peering through various windows, too excited to settle down until Yugi made them and shut the blinds for good measure. Once the plane was up in the air, the two irrepressible boys were up and about again.

"All right, out with it," Joey said suddenly, stopping in front of where Yugi sat quietly. "What is it?"

Yugi had been contemplating a nap as well: after ten hours of sleep he was still tired and his head ached. "What's what?"

"Somethin's different about you. What is it?"

Yugi could think of nothing but sleep. "I dunno."

"I'll figure it out," Joey promised. "Jus' you wait."

"You go do that." Yugi closed his eyes as Joey bounded away.

"How can those two sleep?" he heard Tristan say as he drifted off. "It's the middle of the day!"

Yugi was awakened two hours later by an urgent shout. "Yug!"

"What?" Yugi sat up dazedly, blinking around. "What is it?"

"Your Puzzle!" Tristan exclaimed. "Where is it?"

"Oh. Is that all?"

"'Is that all?'" Joey repeated incredulously. "Yugi, you haven't let that thing out of your sight for as long as I've known you!"

"It's no big deal," Yugi mumbled, turning away.

"No big _deal?"_

"What's going on?" Tea sat up groggily.

"Yugi, that Millennium Puzzle is like a part of you," Tristan said seriously.

"No big deal?" Joey said again.

"Guys! What's up?" Tea could only see Yugi's back.

"Let it go!" Yugi exclaimed, annoyed.

In the midst of the confusion, the plane dipped and rocked unsettlingly from side to side. All four broke off at once, staring at each other. The plane tilted again, left to right, back to front, over and over. Yugi's ears popped. They seemed to be losing altitude.

"This doesn't feel right."

* * *

Her cell phone rang, but Massimina merely took another swig of brandy and made no move to answer it. It was surely Michael, calling from that airport in Japan, and talking to Michael in person could prove very tiresome. The man could leave a message.

Sure enough, when she picked up her phone, his overconfident voice rang in her ear. "Listen, _Echeverria –_" That was Michael's little game, putting that spin on her name and pretending he was bolder than he was. To tell the truth, Massimina found it somewhat amusing. "The plane took off two hours ago, and the system shows they are know experiencing technical difficulties over South Korea."

_Right on schedule, _she thought grimly.

"_Please_ excuse my insubordination," Michael's voice continued, very sarcastically, "but I really don't think this was right. It's just a bunch of kids, Mo – ma'am – seventeen at most – and they could be killed or seriously hurt, so you better be prepared to pay damages – "

She closed the phone. The only things more tiresome than talking to Michael – besides Cintya in general – were Michael's scruples.

Admittedly, he didn't have very many, but then again if he had had more, she would never have let him stay. Massimina herself had no scruples whatsoever and prided herself on it.

So everything was going according to plan . . . Kaiba would be without a partner, not knowing why or how. There would be no way she could lose.

Massimina grinned maliciously into the darkness of her chamber. No one could say she hadn't given the boy a chance.

* * *

Everything went dark, and for a moment Tea lost her bearings completely, couldn't remember where she was or whom she was with. Then the lights were flickering back on and Tristan was making a break for the front of the plane, stumbling as the floor swung up and down under his feet. The others followed; Yugi almost toppled into a row of seats, but Joey grabbed his arm and hauled him on.

Bright sunlight streamed through the windows in the cockpit. It was empty.

All was silence except for frenetic beeps and the whoosh of air – until Joey broke it. "Say _what?"_

"We," Yugi said grimly, looking out the window at the mountains far below, "are taking a nosedive."

"Anybody know how to fly a plane?" Tea ventured.

Tristan looked around the tiny cockpit, as though someone might be hiding behind the door. "That's supposed to be the pilot's job."

"And in a crash," Yugi said, "the passenger's job is to buckle up." He started back towards their seats.

"But – "

"Unless you know how to keep us from crashing?" Yugi raised his eyebrows, in leader mode now.

They followed him. "Maybe we're just landing," Tea said nervously as she sat with her hands over her head.

"Too soon," Tristan said, just as Joey said, "Landing doesn't feel like this."

Tea would swear, later, that she had heard the crash before it happened.

* * *

Herwatch was in front of her eyes; the glass had shattered but the hands still moved. It read four thirty-eight, and she was confused: surely it had been two fifteen a moment before. Hadn't it?

The plane, she remembered. She was on the plane, in her seat, and – oh. Oh, god.

Slowly, Tea stretched, getting a fix on her space. Her foot connected with something hard, and Tristan yelped in protest.

"Thasmyhead," he said groggily.

"Sorry." Tea could see, now, that his seat had fallen over with him still in it. She fumbled to unbuckle her safety belt and stood, her head protesting the motion. She could see daylight, sky, and trees. Lots of trees. The metal plane had been ripped open by the impact; the front half lay twenty feet away, partially obscured by the rise of a mountain. Joey was silhouetted in the opening of their half, scratching his head and looking around in confusion. When he saw her, he blinked and came over. Tea grabbed his shoulder to stay upright: her ankle did not like standing any more than her head.

"This is not good," Tristan informed them as he hauled himself up.

"Thank you, Mr. Obvious," Joey groaned, looking out over the endless forest. Or jungle. What was the difference, really? "Tea, you're hurtin' my arm."

Tea sighed in exasperation and grabbed the back of a still-upright seat instead, rotating her foot cautiously. "Where's Yugi?"

The boys looked at each other, then wordlessly began to search as Tea tried to put weight on both feet. Yugi came to rather quickly when a panicked Joey slapped him across the face. Tea heard the yelps, sighed "_Boys,_" and hobbled toward the front of the plane in search of a survival kit, a first aid kit, _something._

She hit jackpot. Two backpacks with weird-looking tags – she'd leave the technical stuff to Yugi --- blankets, food, bottles of water, pots, plates, pans, flashlights – _aha! _Tea pulled a square white box out of the cabinet and opened it to find any number of medical supplies. She proceeded to bind up her ankle, then called the others over to look at her treasure.

"Cool," Yugi said keenly, peering at the tags on the backpacks. "These can turn into . . . " He squinted. "Tents?"

"I knew those didn't look totally normal," Tea said absently. "Hold out your arm, Yugi . . . no, the other one. You're _bleeding."_

"I am?" Yugi looked in faint surprise at his right forearm as the gash disappeared under Tea's bandages. "Is that why I feel dizzy?"

"Probably." Tea secured the wrap with a knot, pretending she knew what she was doing. "I bet it'll pass. Let me have a look at you two."

Joey and Tristan were examining the store of food. Tea looked them over critically, but they both seemed unhurt beyond numerous bumps and scrapes. _Amazing, _she thought. _We've just been through a plane crash . . . we are so lucky._

_But what now?_

She said it aloud: "Guys! What're we going to do?"

Everybody stopped and looked at her for a moment. Silence descended and pressed in on them.

"We're in the middle of nowhere," Yugi said finally, frowning as though thinking was hard work. "I saw, before we crashed. Just forest and forest. We should start walking, I guess."

"_Walk?"_ Tristan squawked. "Who knows how far it is to civilization? We could end up going in circles!"

"I think there's a path out there," Joey put in. "There's a sort of gap in the trees. A path would have to take us somewhere, and soon."

"Not necessarily soon," Tristan said darkly. "And maybe somewhere no-one lives anymore."

There was silence as they all pondered the prospect. "It'll have to do," Tea said finally. "We've got a lot of stuff here, right? We'll be fine."

"Better bring as much food and water as we can," Yugi advised. "I'll go get some of our bags.

_We'll be fine. _Tea repeated her own words to herself. _Right? Fine. We'll be fine._

* * *

"Shoot!" Tristan snapped his cell phone shut. After trying on and off for the last hour, neither he nor Tea could get reception. And he was going to need a recharge soon, too. "Blast it," he muttered and kicked a stone off the path.

Joey had been right for once: a decent-sized dirt path wound through the trees, but it was overgrown and had obviously not been used for some time. Tristan was convinced that they were going in circles even as they followed it. They had divided the food and supplies among the two weird backpacks and two of their own, leaving all unnecessaries behind. Tea was also carrying a stack of blankets rather creatively – at the moment, balancing them on her head. They had been walking only an hour, but the sun was already low enough to shine right in their eyes. At least, Tristan mused, they knew which way they were going.

He forced his mind away from serious subjects as he tripped over a tree root and nearly fell, stumbling into Yugi, who did fall – hard. Tea helped him up, shot Tristan a dark look, and fell behind, muttering to herself about _boys._

"I didn't do it on purpose," Tristan muttered to Joey, who shrugged.

* * *

By the time the sun set, Yugi was more exhausted than he'd ever been in his life. Enviously, he lookedup -- literally --to where the other three drew farther ahead of him. Yugi felt like his feet were dead weight, dragging him back. And back. And back.

All he wanted was to stop and rest, and go to sleep. The others weren't planning to walk all night, were they? He wouldn't be able to stand it.

But in the end, Tristan stopped them all at the next clearing of sorts, and no-one complained. Instead, they got to work. Tea gathered wood for a fire, wangling Joey into helping, while Yugi peered at the tent-backpack things, trying to figure out how they worked when he could barely see the tag in the dark. By the time he got the tent up, Tristan had long been finished with the other one and was helping Tea cook dinner, a process from which Joey was banned.

"It's mac and cheese!" he was protesting as Yugi finally plopped down in the dirt next to him. "How can I wreck mac and cheese?"

"You'd find a way," Tea assured him. "Go get more firewood."

Joey groaned and headed towards the woods again. Yugi slowly picked himself up and went to help.

Dinner, when it got underway, was a solemn affair. Yugi barely noticed the others' silence through the fog of his own weariness. He finished as quickly as possible, picked up a blanket off the pile, and curled up in the corner of the larger tent, which was not saying much since both were tiny.

Firelight flickered and voices drifted through the opening. _Now they talk, _Yugi thought, but he didn't have the energy to argue with himself. In another minute, he was sound asleep.

* * *

Seto Kaiba was having a boredom problem. He had kept himself busy all day with the various tasks and problems attributed to being the CEO of a rather large corporation. But now it was night, he couldn't sleep, and it was _way _past time for that plane to arrive.

His mind, bereft of anything else to occupy it (and perhaps not really wanting to be thus occupied), kept wandering to Mokuba. How was his little brother?

Seto had tried to leave his room to search, but found that his door had been locked. No amount of prying, levering, kicking, or punching had any effect. It was a solid door. So Seto was left to wonder: Was Mokuba safe? Was he hungry? Was he scared?

Was he alive?

Of course he was alive. Dead people couldn't be held for ransom; you could get sued for that.

Then again, you could also get sued for kidnapping in the first place. Now Seto _knew _he was overtired. He lay back, wanting and needing to sleep, but he couldn't keep himself from clutching the card locket that hung around his neck.

_Dammit, I'm supposed to _protect _him! _Seto still couldn't figure out how all this had happened. Mokuba simply hadn't come home from school one day. Ten hours later, when he was all but frantic, Seto had gotten a call instructing him to fly to such-and-such coordinates – which he had immediately obeyed. Where his little brother was concerned, there was no time for hesitation or deliberation. There could only be action, because Mokuba was counting on him.

Where the hell was that plane? This woman's rules were ridiculous, but he had to play by them; there was no other way. For that he needed Yugi, who was nowhere in sight. What could be holding him up?

Seto Kaiba was officially worried.

* * *

Tea was the first one up the next morning. She made breakfast, collapsed her tent, spent forty-five minutes turning it back into a backpack, ate her share of breakfast, tidied the campsite, packed everything except breakfast, and finally pulled up the pegs on the boys' tent.

_That_ sure woke them up in a hurry.

Once the grumbling trio had emerged, eaten, and packed up their tent, they all set off into the jungle again. As they walked, somebody finally thought to bring up the Mystery of the Missing Pilot.

"But there was a voice over the intercom," Tea was saying. "There _was_ a voice. _Someone _was there. A _person._"

"Coulda been a recording," Joey pointed out.

"But can a plane really fly without a pilot?"

"He didn't bail out at ten thousand feet," Tristan remarked.

"But he could bailed out at twenty feet," Joey said. "He gets us on the right runway, then jumps. Autopilot can take it from there."

"_Why, _though?" Tea seemed to be asking all the questions. "Were we _supposed _to crash?"

"That makes no sense," Tristan argued. "They wanted Yugi, right? He was supposed to duel. So why would they want us to crash?"

Joey looked over his shoulder. "What d'you think, Yug?"

"Hmm?" Yugi looked up from his feet and blinked at the three of them. "Sorry, what?"

"The pilot!" Joey said impatiently.

Yugi frowned, then appeared to give up the struggle rather quickly. "Dunno," he muttered and resumed studying the ground.

Tristan changed the subject. "How far d'you think we've come?"

"A billion miles."

"How fast d'you think we're walking?" Tea countered.

"A billion miles an _hour_."

"Joey, shut up."

"No, wait!"

"Joey, we are not going that fast," Tea said wearily. "I don't think even rocket ships go that fast."

"No, for real, come back here." Joey's voice dropped so she could barely hear him. "C'mon, Yug, talk to me."

Tea and Tristan both turned at the same time to find that they were twenty feet ahead of the others. Joey crouched next to Yugi, who was sitting in the middle of the path, looking rather confused.

"What happened?" Tea asked, hurrying back. Tristan reached them as between the two of them, Joey and Tea managed to pull Yugi to his feet. Tea pressed her palm to the smaller boy's forehead, then to her own for comparison. "Yugi, you're burning up."

"I am?" Yugi wobbled and nearly fell, despite Joey's tight grip on his arm.

"Crap," Tristan said to no-one as Tea pressed Yugi for information she had no idea what to do with. "Crap, crap, crap."

* * *

_Tbc . . ._

_Well? As I said above, I'm not an expert, and that applies to the rest of the story as well. If you have any suggestions to make the story more realistic, I'd love to hear. If you have a suggestion but don't think the story is worth bothering with, tell me anyway. It'll up my review count at the very least. (Flamers will, however, get flamed back.)_


	4. Plans and Action

_Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh or Two Princesses._

_A/N: Sorry this took so long, but RL intervened in the form of eight-hour marching band rehearsals, golf practice, four times my normal shifts at work . . . you get the idea. Plus this chapter and the site both decided to give me a bit of trouble. But I'm here now. Thanks to everybody who reviewed, and I'd really appreciate it if you lurkers would drop a line . . . I'll name names next chapter; right now I'm too tired to look them up. Enjoy!_

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

**Chapter Three: Plans and Action**

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_Step follows step._

_Hope follows courage._

_Set your face toward danger._

_Set your heart on victory._

_--Gail Carson Levine_

_The Two Princesses of Bamarre_

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"_No," she said forcefully, as though she could make it so. "No. You can't be serious."_

_He didn't even have the grace to look ashamed. "Dead serious. I'm sorry, Mina, but this is my career. I can't be tied to . . . well . . . "_

"_Say it," she snapped. "An embarrassment. I'm an embarrassment."_

"_Well, yes."_

_Now she wished he hadn't said it: it hurt her heart. What little she had left._

"_It was a charity match," she said, trying to keep tears out of her voice. "The media think I threw it."_

"_Whereas the serious community knows the truth."_

"_What serious community? It's chess. Just a stupid game."_

"_That 'stupid game,'" he said, eyes flashing, "is my life. There's money in it, Mina. Big money."_

_Money. Power. At least they still had a few things in common. She gathered her courage and looked him in the eye. "If you're going to put money ahead of me, then you will call me _Madam _Echeverria."_

"_Mina – "_

"_I don't want to hear it! You started it."_

"_You started it," he said, "by losing to an eight-year-old."_

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Firelight was an odd thing, Tristan mused. It couldn't seem to stay at one brilliance or in one place, oh no. It _flickered._ And it was melancholy, reflecting his mood perfectly. Weren't campfires supposed to be happy places? Wasn't that where little girls sat and sang "Kumbayah?"

"_Don't_," Joey snapped, "_please._"

Only then did Tristan realize he was humming. Kumbayah.

"Wouldn't it be expected," Tea put in, irritated, "for a first aid kit to have some sort of manual?"

"No," Joey told her. "They left it out just to annoy you."

"This is more important than that!"

"No manual. No guide. 'S life, Tea. Get used to it."

Tea threw the kit down dangerously close to the fire. "I can't! I have no idea what to do! Nothing . . . I've got nothing."

"We've all got nothing right now," Tristan said moodily, feeding a thick branch into the fire. "The middle of nowhere. No transportation. No authority. Nothing."

"But if we don't get something soon . . . we may wind up with even less."

"Lay off the philosophy," Joey said, not moving from where he lay flat on his back next to the small tent they had set up for Yugi. "My brain's not working."

"So what else is new?" Tristan mumbled.

"Grow up!" Tea snapped. "_Make_ your brain work, because this is _important, _Joey; this could be life and –"

"Shut _up!_" Tristan yelled.

"I need some female friends." Tea froze.

It had sounded robotic, as though she hadn't even thought about it. Silence reigned; Joey and Tristan stared at her, hearing the long-standing refrain in a new light. Then Tea scrambled to her feet and ran, driving her feet into the ground as though it had hurt her personally.

"She'll be back," the boys said in unison, then stared at each other.

"I _know _this is important," Joey said after a moment. Absently he brushed a hand over the flap of the tent. Yugi was sound asleep, had been even before they had stopped for the night, so that Tristan and Joey had had to take turns carrying him. Lucky Yugi was so small.

"We're in trouble," Tristan sighed. "Deep, deep trouble."

"I've got an idea," Joey said in a tone that would have been dangerous had he been standing. "Why don't you take your own advice and shut up?"

"Joey. I think you should take a break. Stop playing mother hen and watch the fire; I'll sit with Yugi."

Joey scowled but relented. Tristan leaned against a handy tree by the tent flap. When he closed his eyes, he could just hear Yugi's even breathing. For some reason, "Kumbayah" kept interfering. He started humming, hoping to work it out of his system, until Joey finally chucked a stick into the fire and told him in no uncertain terms to knock it off.

He was half asleep some time later when Tea returned, red-eyed and sniffling. Joey held out an arm for her and said, "C'mere, sis."

Tea curled up by the fire and rested her head on his shoulder. "Did you just call me 'sis'?"

"Yep."

"But I'm not Serenity."

"Well, you _act _like her."

"Tristan's not in love with me."

"Hey!" Tristan protested sleepily.

"You know what I mean," Joey said softly, putting an arm around her.

"Sort of sad," Tristan remarked, "that you can't tell your sister and your friend apart."

Tea laughed a shaky sort of laugh and gave Joey a quick hug. "Thanks. I'll see you guys in the morning." She disentangled herself from Joey's arm and made her way over to the other tent.

"I'm going to hit the sack," Joey yawned.

"Toss me a blanket," Tristan said. "And for heaven's sake, keep yours away from the fire."

"How stupid d'you think I am?"

"Very."

"Oh, shut up."

Tristan settled himself against the tree trunk and peered up at the sky. Patches of stars peeped through the branches, and suddenly he wished he knew their names. It was the sort of thing Yugi would know.

All sounded peaceful. The bugs were making a racket, but they had all gotten used to that. There was nothing amiss out there, yet Tristan couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something, something to do with –

"Tristan," Joey growled, "stop _humming._"

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A gilded cage, Seto decided. _That _was what he was stuck in. The room was nice. The food Cintya brought was good. Cintya herself was, inexplicably, turning into an ally. She assured him again and again that Mokuba was doing fine, just fine, and that if it had been up to her none of this would have been started in the first place.

Somehow, Seto couldn't help believing her.

"Why do you put up with this?" he asked her once.

"Madam Echeverria has connections," Cintya said miserably. "Dangerous connections all over the Orient and Central Asia. I wouldn't be safe if I left.

"So you're just going to stay with her for the rest of your life?"

She never answered him.

So Cintya was all right. The amenities were all right. And if Cintya was to be trusted, then Mokuba was all right.

Seto just wanted the damned plane to arrive, and Mokuba to be returned to him, and the whole thing to be over and done with.

It was three days after his arrival that he finally met the infamous Madam Massimina Echeverria. She unlocked his door – now he was jealous – swept into the room, and surveyed him with a satisfied smirk. Seto glanced up, looked back down at his laptop, and did a double take. She had a commanding presence, taller than he, though far too thin, and something in those eyes wasn't quite right. She seemed half drunk, but it was more than that . . .

When she spoke, it was in a low gravelly voice: "Where is your partner?"

Seto closed his laptop and stood to face her. "I daresay you'd know better than I." Something about this lady reeked of foul play.

Unexpectedly, she stuck out a hand. "Massimina Echeverria. Remember me?"

"Never met you, and glad of it. Where is my brother?"

She looked disgusted. "I expected better of you. When you ruin someone's life, you ought to remember it."

He stared at her for a moment. "Nope, definitely don't recall ruining your life. Can we get back to the topic at hand?"

"Oh, you ruined my life all right." She took a step towards him. He did not back away. "You see, an eight-year-old should never be victorious over an adult. Particularly an adult with a relationship on the line."

He could only recall playing anything against one woman as a child, but that had been a charity event, sponsored by some big-name corporations, orphans playing professionals, blah, blah, blah. It hadn't meant anything. Surely not . . .

"Let me get this straight," he said incredulously, interrupting her rant. "You did all this just because I beat you in a chess game nine years ago?"

"Oh, it was more than a chess game," she said quietly, a manic glint in her eyes. "It was much, much more. This will be our rematch, Seto Kaiba. Only this time, we will play a different game – "

"I know the difference between chess and Duel Monsters," he said testily. "Look, give me . . . three days. Then my partner will be here."

She opened her mouth as if to say _Wanna bet?_ but changed her mind at the last second. Instead she sighed gustily, like a small impatient child, and said, "Fine. Three days."

Her look read, _And then you'll be sorry._

_And then, _Seto thought, _I'll get you good._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Tea was piggybacking a sleeping but restless Yugi – they hadn't been able to wake him – when they found the bikes. Joey was the one who found them, actually; he was walking in the underbrush beside the path and tripped over one. It was trapped under roots and vines, but he and Tristan managed to wrestle out an old, rusty, faintly blue bicycle. A red one had also been abandoned a few paces ahead.

"Do they work?" Tea asked curiously.

Tristan hit a pedal and it spun wildly. "The chain's fallen off. But I can fix that."

"Sure you can," Joey muttered skeptically. "And what would be the point of this again?"

Tristan gave him a look clearly dismissing him as too stupid to deal with and went to work on the chain.

"It's transportation," Tea said patiently, although privately she wanted to sigh and roll her eyes. No longer walking, she felt as though she was about to fall under Yugi's weight. "If one or two of us can get ahead, they can send help back. We'll all get out of here quicker." _And Yugi needs it, _she added silently.

"Oh," was all Joey said.

There was a heavy pause, in which Joey considered this, Tristan fiddled with the bikes and cursed under his breath, and Tea tried not to fall over. Normally she had very good balance, but Yugi's deadweight was too much. _I can't be the one to stay behind. I'd never be able to carry him constantly. Besides, he should have one of the guys with him . . . but who?_

Presently Joey spoke. "You two go. I'll stay with Yug." Then he proceeded to justify his decision – something Joey rarely did. "Tristan's a faster rider'n I am – actually you are too, Tea – and you can't stay with him; you're about to drop him – here." He lifted Yugi's limp form off Tea's back and she straightened, rolling her head on her neck.

"Maybe two of us should stay behind," she suggested. "Just in case, you know."

"Nope." Tristan stood up and gave the pedal and experimental kick. It moved as far as he pushed it and stopped.

"The more of us get out of here, the better," Joey said darkly.

Tristan ignored the cynicism. "Whoever we find out there – please let it be someone useful – will be more likely to listen to two people than one. And two people have a better chance of making them understand. We're in a foreign country," he added at their confused looks. "I think Joey's right; we are faster riders. Good to know he's seen the light."

"Only 'cause I can whup your butt at Duel Monsters any day!" Joey retorted, looking uncomfortable.

"Any day of what calendar?" Tristan grinned crazily.

They spent the next quarter of a hour divvying up supplies. Tristan insisted that Joey keep the larger tent and most of the medicines. Joey wanted the others to take more food: "You guys'll need the energy – "

"But you'll be out here longer – "

"But Yugi's not eating anything," Tea reminded them, taking her turn at Voice of Reason.

In the end they split the food and water equally. Tea placed the stack of blankets in Yugi's lap so that Joey would have them. _Food, water, shelter, medicine, _she was thinking. _They've got it – though the medicine'll run out by sundown – and we don't need medicine, so we're good. _That she could even think the word "good" came as a surprise. And even more so – lucky. _Lucky we found the bikes._

Finished repacking the backpacks, Tristan shrugged his onto his shoulders, then took Yugi so that Joey could put his on. Once the smaller boy was settled back in Joey's arms, there was an awkward silence.

Tea tugged anxiously on her backpack straps and looked at Yugi's white face. She wanted to get a move on and at the same time needed to stay: she couldn't bear to let Yugi out of her sight. She tried not to think that this might be the last time she ever saw him; such thoughts would only make her cry. Instead she focused on all the reasons she _would _see him again:

Because Yugi was strong; he could beat this.

Because he had Joey to watch out for him, and Joey wasn't about to let anything happen to his best friend.

Because she and Tristan were going for help now.

Because – _dammit, because I need him! _Tea felt tears prick her eyes; her legs carried her forward and before she knew it, she had kissed Yugi on the cheek.

He moaned and pulled away slightly, his skin papery and hot. Tea could feel her face flaming, knew Joey and Tristan were staring at her. Refusing to meet their eyes, she busied herself with righting a bike and slid onto the seat.

When she risked a look back, Tristan had one hand resting on Yugi's blond head and was clapping Joey on the shoulder with the other. "Take care of him for us," he said quietly.

Joey nodded and shifted slightly, tucking Yugi's head securely in the hollow between his shoulder and collarbone. "I will."

Tea looked back once more as they rode away and saw Joey still standing there, just watching them go. Then determined, he began to walk. Tristan was humming softly, but Tea ignored him and turned her face into the wind, thinking of how there had been no emotion in the boys' voices.

No apparent emotion, anyway.

Just a request . . . and a promise.

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"Where does she get all her money, anyway?" Mokuba asked.

Cintya paused outside the locked door of his room, then stepped forward and pressed her ear against it. She wanted to hear how Michael would handle this.

"How do you think?" a low voice growled. Michael never liked giving straight answers: a trick he'd learned in America.

"I don't know," Mokuba said testily. "I asked you first."

Cintya forced herself not to laugh. She had spent a lot of time with each Kaiba brother over the last few days and found herself coming to like them more and more.

"Let's just say . . . " Michael said, "not legally. Face it, she'd never've got anywhere playing fair."

"Hey!" There was a loud clatter as though someone had knocked his chair over. "My brother's the head of a multi-million dollar corporation and he never once cheated or stole!"

"Your brother, your brother, your brother. Blah, blah, blah." Really, it was remarkable how much Michael sounded like said brother. "And how long you think he's gonna stay that way, kid?"

Michael must have had some threatening move to accompany that, for Mokuba's next words were not defense of his brother but of himself. "I'm not afraid of you!"

"Yeah, well, maybe you should be." A key rattled in the door and Cintya jumped out of the way as Michael stormed out and locked the door behind him. He noticed her grinning at him. "What?"

"Looks like he's seen through you."

"What?"

"He knows you're really a marshmallow at heart."

"Yeah, right," Michael grunted. "If you see my heart around, let it know."

Cintya rolled her eyes and fell into step next to him as he headed outside. There were two sets of doors to be unlocked and locked behind them, and each set required a passcode as well as a key. The mistress of the estate was not quite rich enough to afford voice or retina scans, but security was still darn good. All the systems were separate and self-sustaining, so it was especially good to contain the Kaiba brothers: They couldn't hack in.

Cintya watched Michael suck in great chestfuls of fresh air and considered what little she knew: it had been done that way on purpose. What she did not know was for how long, and why, Massimina had been planning her revenge.

"Michael?"

"Shut up."

"See, you are a marshmallow; you're 'communing with nature.'"

"I am not!"

"You said it, not me."

"I was drunk!"

"So? Maybe we're most ourselves when we're drunk," Cintya mused. "Anyway, Michael – "

"Didn't I just say to shut up?"

"Make me."

"Oh, I'll make you all right – " Michael swung at her head; she had already ducked, and he made an impromptu pirouette.

"Missed me, missed me," she taunted.

Michael glared. A man twice Cintya's size would have turned tail and run, but she smiled sweetly at her brother and waited.

"What," he growled. "Is it."

"What do you think about – all this . . . " She gestured fruitlessly at nothing.

"All what? The jungle, China, the world, God?"

Cintya slapped him absentmindedly. "The whole Kaiba affair, idiot."

"I think the supposed 'partner' had better get here quick," Michael said mechanically.

"I mean really." Cintya licked her lips nervously. "They're really nice, you know, and – "

"I don't know what Kaiba did," Michael interrupted. There must have been something. I got no problem with revenge. Necessary action sometimes. But . . . "

Cintya was on the verge of vital information. She could smell it. "But?"

"But possible _murder _of four _innocents _– that I have a problem with," he said all in a rush, as though he had been waiting for the opportunity.

"_What?" _Cintya couldn't believe her ears. Murder? Surely even _dear_ Massimina would never stoop so low. . .

She was, after all, their mother.

Michael didn't meet her eyes. "A bunch of kids," he muttered. "Maybe about the same age as the older Kaiba – "

"He's seventeen," Cintya put in shakily.

"Yeah, that sounds right. These kids were boarding the plane. They seemed all right, you know, and I – I bailed on them. They crashed in South Korea . . . "

Something clicked. "Seto's partner," she breathed, then added hurriedly, "I mean Kaiba's partner."

"Yeah."

"Michael?" She was almost afraid to ask.

"Yep," he said, then swallowed and looked even further away. "They . . . they were supposed to."

"Oh, dear God." Cintya wasn't even religious. "Oh, holy – " She continued ranting to every deity she could think of until she ran out and switched to swearing in three languages.

She hardly noticed when Michael slipped away.

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Joey didn't want to slow down, much less stop. _I gotta keep going, _he repeated to himself over and over, until it became a mantra and everything else fell away. _I gotta keep going. I gotta keep going._

Step after step. One foot in front of the other. Don't stop.

_I gotta keep going. I gotta keep going._

Yugi was in his arms, a frail, unconscious bundle of deadweight. No, dead was a bad word, very bad. He was heavy for such a little guy.

_I gotta keep going. I gotta keep going. I gotta keep going._

It would be all right. Help was coming. Everything was going to be okay. He knew this, though he couldn't see through the fog to pick out the reasons why. "Stop thinking before you hurt yourself," that was what Yugi would say.

_I gotta keep going. I gotta keep going. I gotta keep going. I gotta keep . . . ._

Joey was on his knees for a full minute before he realized he had stopped. When he tried to get up, his legs wouldn't support him. He set Yugi down in the middle of the path and tried again. Better. What time was it, anyway? The woods were moonlit. He glanced at his wrist, but his watch must have gotten lost somewhere along the way.

That was the last straw. Joey put his hands up to his face and screamed into them until the tension had drained out of him. He then sank back to the ground and tried to think.

More walking was out of the question. He decided that it wasn't worth it to build a fire; he wasn't hungry anyway. They could just camp out right in the middle of the path, that was it. At least it was level. He turned to Yugi, who still slept fitfully, and picked up the folded blankets, making up a makeshift bed for his friend and one for himself. Maybe not the safest of situations, but it still seemed simpler than going to bed at home.

When he tried to sleep, he realized that screaming hadn't released quite all his tension. There was still that tightness just there, in his chest. A small bit, really.

So small, and yet so big. Joey wished Yugi were awake to talk to. He wished Yugi were awake, period.

"Yugi?" he said into the darkness. Of course there was no answer. He continued anyway, "Yug, I . . . "

_I want to know that everything'll be all right. I'm worried about you. I wish we were home._

_I'm scared. And alone._

"I'm scared," he said aloud. After all, nobody would hear. Then he closed his eyes and tried again to sleep.

Even breathing filled the night silence, and he couldn't tell whether it was Yugi's or his own.

Maybe Yugi had heard.

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_They were asleep, unguarded, and shadows moved in the trees. Something flashed in the darkness. She had to get to them, to warn them, but something was wrong; when she reached out, she met resistance. Sense told her to look for a way through, but she wanted to just scream until it shattered into tiny pieces. The shadows were coming closer, covering them up – an then one of them opened an eye and yelled, and then she was yelling and he was yelling and then – _

Tea's face hit dirt and something cold and hard fell on her legs, trapping her. She lay there, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"Tea! Are you okay? God – " Tristan shoved the bike aside and tugged her to her feet; in that split second she remembered everything.

"Note to self, " she mumbled, "do not fall asleep while steering a moving vehicle."

"Bad idea," Tristan agreed, righting her bike. He bent over the pedals and chain, intent on checking for damage; and Tea was glad he couldn't see her shaking.

When Tristan was satisfied, he surveyed her closely. "Do you want to stop for the night?"

"Just give me a minute." Tea sat in the dead leaves on the edge of the path with a sigh.

The need for safety, both for themselves and for Yugi and Joey, sooon drove her to her feet again. "C'mon. Let's go."

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_Tbc . . ._

_Today at golf I took five shots out of one bunker, lost two balls, and hit the same tree twice. You can help cheer me up. See the purple button, love the purple button . . ._


	5. In Which Joey Gets Some Attention

_Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh or Calvin and Hobbes._

_A/N: Yay for probably my shortest wait ever! This probably won't happen again, folks, no matter how much I want to finish this before school starts, because I just realized I forgot about two essays. Lucky me . . ._

_Thanks to **Landi McClellan **and **crystal ice614 **for reviewing (almost every/every chapter! I'm flattered.) and **bunny-bobtail **and **Aperira **for reviewing the chapter before last. _

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**Chapter Four: In Which Joey Finally Gets Some Attention**

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_To make a bad day worse, spend it wishing for the impossible._

_--Bill Watterson_

_Calvin and Hobbes_

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Yami wandered.

Surely it had been a long time by now. Yugi had warned him about this. _"You can't just wander around the Shadow Realm by yourself."_

_Well, _Yami thought, _apparently I _can.

Even if time had worked normally in the Realm, it would have been hard to judge with no landmarks and no company. Every stretch of black and purple was identical. It was enough to drive a body mad.

Maybe that was it. He was going to go completely, utterly crazy.

Yami was contemplating the futility of this when the strong surface he had been walking on cracked. It took him several heartbeats to figure it out: he was falling . . . and falling . . . and falling . . .

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"So let me get this straight." The intern rubbed her eyes and peered at her notes. "You were flying to an undisclosed location with an unknown pilot who conveniently disappeared just as the plane was about to crash, you all survived the crash, but a boy fell ill and is still in the jungle with a friend along the path you two came from."

Tea nodded. "Sadly, this sort of thing happens to us all the time."

The intern – Tristan couldn't read her nametag – finally cracked a smile. "We'll get a rescue crew out there right away," she promised and began speaking in rapid Korean to her supervisor. The older man shouted and order to the emergency room at large, which got even busier, if that was possible.

Tristan grabbed Tea's shoulder to stop her collapsing in relief, and they both waited for their interpreter's conversation to finish. When she finally turned back, they both started talking at once and then stopped, embarrassed.

"It's been a few days since we had anyone to talk to besides each other," Tea explained. "Can you point us to the cafeteria? And would they take our money?"

Tristan's heart sank; he hadn't thought of the money issue.

"Here." The intern pulled two pink stickers from her pocket and handed one to each of them. "You two are our guests for now. Cafeteria's on the top floor, elevators over there."

"You go on," Tristan said to Tea as she tugged on his arm. "I need to make a phone call."

She glanced up at him suspiciously. "Who to?"

"Guess."

"Your mom. My mom. Serenity. Yugi's grandpa."

"Oh, them too."

Tea sighed. "I admire your bravery. I will be several floors above you so I don't hear the explosion." She flounced off in the direction of the elevators.

The intern was trying not to laugh. "Pay phone's over there," she said helpfully. "They'll give you change at the front desk. This long distance?"

"Yes."

"And – did I hear correctly? Four calls?"

"Five people, but I suppose I only need to call one person in Domino, so that makes two." He paused. "Or three. I keep forgetting Joey's sister doesn't live in Domino."

"Fair enough. Go ahead. I'm Alisa; I'll be around if you need me."

"Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." They shook hands, and within five minutes Tristan had placed a call to a certain cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Tristan – " He held the phone at arm's length as Seto Kaiba's furious voice broke through the line.

"Where the _hell _are you?" the CEO finally snarled. "And _what_ do you think you're doing?"

"_I_ am in the emergency room of a hospital in South Korea, talking to you," Tristan said calmly. "Tea is several floors above me, attacking some real food. I can't tell you where Yugi and Joey are, or what they're doing, but I can assure you that Yugi won't be in any shape to duel for quite a while."

Kaiba swore once, explosively. Tristan couldn't help but agree. "What _happened?_"

"We crashed." Tristan suddenly realized that his hands were shaking. "The pilot disappeared; we think he must've bailed and left us to autopilot."

"She set us up," Kaiba muttered.

"Who? Where_ are_ you, anyway?"

"China. As far as I can tell, there aren't any towns for miles . . . just this little _complex . . . _" Kaiba let out his breath in a low hiss. "Let me think."

Tristan waited, flipping through his address book to find Serenity's number. He'd call her and his mother to explain, then join Tea for some food. The rescue folks would bring Yugi and Joey soon, and then Yugi . . . Yugi would be just fine in time.

All the same, Tristan found it very hard to concentrate on Kaiba's problems. When the young CEO still did not speak, he began to hum absently.

Finally, Kaiba said acidly, "Is that _Kumbayah?_"

"No! You done _thinking _yet?"

"What about Wheeler?"

"What about him?"

"How is he?"

Tristan didn't trust Kaiba's suddenly solicitous interest in Joey's well being. "He was okay last I saw him."

"Excellent," Kaiba said, satisfied. "When you see the mutt again, tell him to call me."

"I don't have a dog," Tristan said innocently.

"I meant Wheeler."

"All right, Kitty."

"What?" 

"I'll tell him," Tristan said quickly. "'Bye." He hung up and burst out laughing.

In a small room in China, Seto Kaiba was just beginning to realize he'd been had.

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Joey was on the seventh hill of the morning when a yellow-green truck appeared over the rise and he froze, certain it was a mirage. He had been alone with Yugi for no more than two days – one and a half, really – and yet it seemed like ten years.

And then the truck was halting in front of him – someone was calling his name – in a whirl, a rush, Yugi was taken from his arms and someone was asking him questions and Joey couldn't take it in – finally he shook himself free of his daze. "Sorry, what?"

The driver spoke in halting Japanese, leading Joey to wonder where exactly they were. They wanted to know Yugi's medical history – Joey filled it in as best he could – the exact symptoms of his illness, how long ago the plane had crashed, what they had eaten and drunk, and had Yugi shown any signs of illness before the journey? Suddenly Joey remembered the last day of school – only five days ago – how Yugi had almost fallen asleep twice in algebra, and had really fallen asleep the next day on the plane, at _high noon. _Yugi never acted like that.

Joey told them this, and they nodded, but he could see them thinking, _Teenagers – _even if they were thinking in another language. And then there were yet more questions – school and residence and jobs – Joey couldn't see how any of it mattered, but he answered anyway, hoping these people could make something out of nothing, figure out what had gone wrong and fix it.

Over the burly driver's shoulder he caught a glimpse of Yugi being loaded into the back of the ambulance, almost buried in the mattress of one of those rolling stretchers, only his vivid hair standing out, looking very, very, small.

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Tea had learned an important lesson: when you were worried, you still had time to be bored. To this end she was curled in the corner of the hospital's gift shop, immersed in a cheap romance novel that she hadn't actually bought. She had no idea where Tristan was, and was glad of it: after their fourth consecutive night spent in close quarters – a mostly empty waiting room with a few handy couches – and with nothing more to do, they were both all too ready to snap at each other.

Although, Tea reflected as she turned a page, fighting _did_ pass the time.

"Tea."

She looked up, startled, to find Alisa standing over her. "Hmm?"

"Your friends just came in. I thought you'd want to know."

Dropping the book, Tea scrambled to her feet and impulsively hugged the woman. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! How's Yugi? Is he okay?" It was with difficulty that she kept herself from adding, _Is he? Is he? Is he?_

"I don't know about him. The tall one – Joey? – he's up in the cafeteria – "

Tea was halfway out the door already. "Thank you," she called over her shoulder, "so much!"

When she reached the top floor, she found Joey and Tristan deep in conversation even as Joey ate ravenously. She threw her arms around his neck from behind, causing him to nearly choke. "Joey!"

"Hi, Tea," he managed, groping for her arms to disentangle himself. "Nice to see you too."

"How's Yugi?" she asked, sliding into the seat next to him.

Joey and Tristan exchanged looks. Joey picked up a fork and attacked his food again, leaving Tristan to answer the question.

"No change. And they won't tell us a thing."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Even under ideal circumstances, Joey did not get along with Seto Kaiba. And these were definitely _not_ ideal circumstances. _Breathe, _he reminded himself as the phone rang on the other end. _Breathe. Do not get mad. Do _not.

And then the familiar haughty voice came on the other end, and Joey knew trying to keep his cool was useless.

"Waddaya want," he growled without bothering to identify himself.

"Wheeler," Kaiba said in some relief. "Listen, I need you over here."

"What, China? In your dreams."

"In my dreams, _I _would be in Japan and _you_ would be on another planet," Kaiba said dryly. "I've only got a day, and since Yugi can't make it – "

There it was; Joey exploded. "Well, that's YOUR fault, now, ISN'T it?"

Kaiba started to say something, but Joey cut him off. "YOUR damn pilot left us to crash in the wilderness and if we had been in Domino Yug could've gotten attention right away and – and it's all _your fault._"

"Are you finished?"

"For now. But if I _was _in China, I'd be attacking you about now. Just so you know."

"I'm surprised it took you that long. Now listen up: that pilot wasn't _my _pilot; he works for Massimina – "

"Who?" _Not Kaiba's pilot?_

"Massimina Echeverria, she's behind all this. She's the one we have to duel, her and her . . . er . . . assistant Cintya. I think she's slightly insane, but unfortunately, insane people can have money and manpower. That pilot was hers."

"Why don't you call the police?"

"You think I haven't thought of that? Use your head, Wheeler."

Mentally, Joey sifted through all the spy movies he'd ever seen. "Do such-and-such or the kid/lady dies!" _Of course, Mokuba! _Apparently, clichéd strategies could still work.

"The duel itself shouldn't be too difficult." Kaiba seemed to have decided that the best way to sway Joey to his side was to give him information. "According to Cintya, Massimina is awful. Cintya herself is probably pretty good, but I'm sure we can take her."

"Let me get this straight," Joey said, rubbing his forehead. "This Cintya works for the crazy lady who got us all into this mess, and you _trust _her?"

"Lately I've been trusting a lot of unlikely people. Like you."

Joey gaped at the phone. "Say what?"

The words seemed to come reluctantly, painfully. "With Yugi out of the picture, you're the only one I know who won't muck this up completely."

Joey closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of having the upper hand. Kaiba went on hurriedly, "I'll send my own pilot for you this time. I know where you are; you can do a lot with caller ID and a laptop, you know; we shouldn't have any problems."

"Any _more _problems, you mean." Joey rather felt he had enough problems to be going on with.

"You decide." Kaiba was clearly ignoring him. "Kemo will find you, about eight tomorrow. You decide."

Joey was about to make some comeback when the line went dead.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tristan pushed himself off the wall and consciously stopped humming. "He wants you over there," he said to Joey as the blond hung up the phone. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," Joey said wonderingly.

"You gonna go?"

"I . . . "

Joey looked at him, lost. Tristan couldn't remember the last time Joey had looked to him for answers. Maybe it had never happened.

"I – " Joey swallowed and blinked. "Yug! I shouldn't leave him."

Tristan had never believed in the proverbial lightbulb. "Aha!" moments, like many things in movies, could never happen. And yet there he was; a switch seemed to have flicked; and he wanted to shout, "Eureka!" but he found himself reaching into his pocket. Calmly, he handed Joey a stack of dueling cards.

Joey glanced down, confusion fluttering across his features. Automatically he patted the pocket where he kept his deck. Finding it there, he looked up at Tristan and back down at the cards in his hands.

They were not the type who could always read each other, but Tristan knew Joey well enough to know that _he _knew exactly what he was holding. Neither boy was surprised when the first card turned out to be the Dark Magician.

"I can't." Joey rubbed his thumb over the wizard's hat.

"Combine them," Tristan suggested. "You can do that, right? You'd wipe the floor with – whoever it is."

"I can't, " Joey repeated.

"He'd want you to go."

Joey sighed and slumped against the wall. His hand closed around Yugi's deck. Tristan moved in for the kill. "Think about it. Your strength and his. And Kaiba – I hate to admit it, but the guy's good. Three of the top ranked duelists in the world. That duel'll be a piece of cake."

"Yugi – "

" – will be just fine, whether or not you're here."

"It'll be a job. Combining the decks."

"You figure it out. You're the duelist."

Joey shook his head, not quite smiling. "I hate you."

Tristan sighed happily. "Ah, the sweet taste of victory."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Kemo found him, Joey wasn't ready, but he pretended he was. After all, he would probably never be ready.

"You'll be back in no time," Tea assured him. Joey nodded shortly and followed the Kaibas' pilot.

Once onboard the plane and satisfied that yes, there was someone up front, he sat contemplating the two decks. It seemed a crime, somehow, to separate Yugi's cards and mix them in with his own. They had always been strongest together, feeding off each other's fortes and glossing over weaknesses, but Kaiba was the one he had to duel with now. Yugi, as one who could actually stand to be in the CEO's presence, was a much better candidate for the job.

If Joey was going to do this, he would need all of his best friend's patience. Cards weren't much in the way of human qualities, but they had heart. One card could make or break a duel, could change lives. Joey had seen it many times.

On the other hand . . .

Joey hadn't forgotten the thrill that came when Kaiba had given him trust. Maybe not in so many words, but still. Being the Yugi Moto's best friend had its downsides, one of them living in a shadow. People recognized Yugi when he walked down the street. Joey was famous in his own right, but somehow he always seemed to be overlooked. This . . . this was recognition.

_And even this I'm gettin' secondhand._ Joey had been only a second choice, a next-best. But Kaiba had tons of connections, could have called anybody for help. When Seto Kaiba was involved, second best was pretty damn good. This was Joey's big break. He had to do it himself – no more mooching. For once Joey Wheeler was going to beat Yugi at something! 

Resolute – it was decided – Joey picked up the right-hand deck, intending to put it away. He hadn't realized his hands were trembling. Sweaty fingers slipped, and Yugi's cards were scattered over the floor. Swearing softly, Joey knelt to gather them.

The monsters gave him pause. Big purple eyes locked onto his own and wouldn't let go. Kuriboh.

Dimly, Joey remembered Yugi saying that Heart of the Underdog reminded him of someone. Although it had never been said outright, Joey knew that someone to be himself. Well, if Heart of the Underdog was his card – and it probably was, no matter how the dog jibe stung – Kuriboh was Yugi's. Small and unassuming, to the untrained – or unwilling – eye it looked weak. Joey had known the card to do great things, yet it needed to high attack to boast of its power. Yugi's card through and through.

Joey rocked back on his heels, feeling sick. He thought of Yugi now, in a hospital miles from home, maybe fighting for his_ life. _He had never complained but looking back, Joey knew the last day or so before his collapse had to have been hell. No wonder he had always been so far behind, had fallen so often, had gone to bed so early. No wonder. And he, Joey, was plotting to use the illness for his own greedy ends. His best friend.

In a moment of frightening clarity, Joey saw Yugi, and he saw himself. He knew who was truly the better, and he knew it had nothing to do with dueling.

_Oh, god. God, Yugi, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._

Kuriboh stared at him without reproach. The thing even looked like Yugi . . . and a bit like Mokuba . . . _Mokuba!_ Suddenly, Joey saw how duelists like Bandit Keith were born: they were swept away by the glory and forgot why they had begun. It was so easy.

Joey closed his eyes for a moment, then began to gather up the cards. He made a mental note to put Kuriboh into the combined deck – his best friend's spirit, a reminder of what he was fighting for.

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_Tbc . . ._

_Three chapters to go. If you want me to post quickly again, then give me an incentive . . . _saes . . ._ no, wait, that's elvish . . . I mean please!_


	6. Baucis

_Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh, nor am I an ancient Greek philosopher._

_A/N: Warnings toward the end for language a bit stronger than I usually use. (Just a bit, really.) The chapter title is for a woman in an ancient Greek/Roman myth. She and her husband welcomed strangers into their home . . . but the strangers turned out to be gods . . . and, typically of old stories, they got a wish granted. In addition to reminding me of the guy in my latin class who wore a dress to play Baucis in a film, the myth made me think of this chapter . . . ._

_Thanks to **Landi McClellan **(again, I love you!) and **midnightdragoness** for reviewing. _

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

**Chapter Five: Baucis**

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_Let him that would move the world first move himself._

_--Socrates_

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

"I'm sorry."

Humming absently, Tristan leaned against the wall, having given up on Alisa. Tea was not so easily deterred.

"Surely you know something," she wheedled. "Just tell us . . . tell us when he'll be allowed to move; we'd like to get back to Domino . . . "

"I can't." Alisa dropped an armful of forms at the front desk and turned to find Tea blocking her way. She sighed impatiently. "Look, honey, I'd like to tell you, but it's classified. High-profile case – "

"What?"

"Didn't you know you've been in the news? It's not every day planes crash over the mountains. The point is, my job's on the line. I'm sorry."

Though she looked chagrined, Tea still did not give in. "Can you say why you can't say?"

"It's a little thing called doctor-patient confidentiality. I can only give information to direct family – "

"But Yugi's only family is his grandpa, and he's too old to fly so he's stuck in Japan!"

Alisa pinched the bridge of her nose and looked up to the ceiling. Finally she said, "You'll have to take it up with my boss."

"Who doesn't speak Japanese."

"I'll go with you, silly . . . " Even as they disappeared across the lobby, Tristan had to wonder at the way Alisa's voice sounded forced. Maybe he was imagining the look she had given him . . . but now he was remembering words, words to fit the tune that had been stuck in his head for days.

_Someone's dyin', my lord . . . Kumbayah . . . _

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Why did I volunteer to do this? _Cintya paced the dirt road by her car. She had parked a safe distance from the airstrip, which was situated all by itself several miles from the complex and even farther from any civilized society. _Because we're not civilized. What she's done, it's no better than human sacrifices. And we put up with it – we might as well be savages._

But that wasn't the point. And Cintya was still trying desperately to remember the point.

Seto had never met Michael and didn't trust him to meet the plane. Although Cintya had a higher opinion of her brother, she had to admit he was easily bent to Massimina's will. She was a better choice. But there was more to it; something had driven her to volunteer before Seto asked, and for the life of her, Cintya could not figure out what it was.

Tipping her face to the sky in frustration, she finally spotted the Kaibas' magnificent Blue Eyes jet. She covered her ears against the roar and watched it come in, considering the Dragon, a beautiful creature the likes of which she had only ever seen on television, and that only once. But every duelist knew of their legendary power. Soon – within a day! – she would be dueling against three of them.

And that was something else to think about. Maybe it was that attempted murder, maybe it was Seto, maybe Mokuba – but Cintya did not know if she could continue to follow Massimina blindly – she wondered, for the first time, when she had started referring to her mother by her first name, even in her own mind. Cintya was no longer sure if, in that long-awaited duel – they had been working towards this for years! – she should give her all.

The forest was suddenly silent; she caught a glimpse of silver-blue through the trees and started to run, away from her thoughts, but they wouldn't leave her alone. _I will. I'll give my all, like always, because I'm a good girl and I do what my mother says . . . . _

Two figures were alighting from the plane when she arrived, and Cintya forced her mind to them. Kemo she had met; she had been the one to relay Seto's orders to him. Rather undercover she had done it, since she was quite sure Massimina would not approve. Even Michael didn't know a replacement was coming.

Cintya exchanged pleasantries with the blue-haired man, who inquired anxiously after the Kaiba brothers; then she turned to the other. She was intensely curious; who was it that Seto trusted to take the place of Yugi Moto?

He towered above her, a rough-looking blond with a backpack slung over one shoulder. As she approached, he shook back his mop of hair and looked down at her distrustfully. She wondered exactly how much he knew.

"Cintya Kabat," she said pleasantly, extending a hand. "And you are . . .?"

He shifted a duel deck from right hand to left and cautiously took her hand. "Joey Wheeler." As he drew away, she noticed that his deck, obviously clutched tightly, had left crease marks on his palm.

Then her brain turned on. "Joey Wheeler," she said slowly. "I've heard of you!"

"You _what?_"

Cintya smiled, giddy with relief. She could talk to this boy – for a boy he was, probably around Seto's age. The ride back to the complex would not be terribly awkward. "Of course I've heard of you!" she babbled as she led him towards the car. "You were second at Duelist Kingdom and fourth at Battle City and you were at the Grand Prix and – do you really know Yugi Moto? He was supposed to be here, you know, but –" Cintya caught herself just in time. "But he's been – detained," she finished lamely as she climbed into the driver's seat.

Maybe this wouldn't be so easy.

Joey was standing outside the car, immobile. She could not see his face but figured she knew what he was thinking. "You can trust me," she said helplessly, wondering what on earth she would do if he didn't.

"It's not that," came the voice from outside. Joey slowly slid into the passenger seat. "Kemo knows you."

"Just barely." Somehow, this boy invited confidence.

"Whatever." Joey stared ahead, stony-faced, as she started the engine and pulled all the way onto the narrow road.

"Yugi Moto," he said abruptly, "is the best friend I ever had. I was with 'im when he left to come here – " Cintya nearly crashed into a tree and had to shut off the motor. Joey continued heedless: "and I know exactly why he's been 'detained.' He's stuck in a hospital in a foreign country and nobody'll tell us what the hell is going on so it can't be good and you know whose fault it is? That _Echeverria _lady, and you work for her, don't'cha? So I don' even know what I'm doin' here."

Joey fell silent, glaring at her. Cintya stared ahead. _Oh. My. God. _

What was one supposed to say to _that?_

"So," Joey said, "couldja help me out here?"

"I could if I knew why you're here," Cintya said slowly, " but I don't know much of anything right now."

"What, an identity crisis?"

"I never thought of it that way."

"So spill."

"No!"

Joey turned to look at her; his eyes, for such a young boy, were old. It was a look Cintya had seen before – in the mirror.

_This boy_, she realized, _is not all that different from me. He's seen things._

"I told you what's on my mind," he said simply. "Seein' as how you work for the evil lady, I think the least you can do is return the favor."

Cintya laughed and found she had trouble stopping. "The – evil lady," she managed before collapsing onto the steering wheel in a helpless fit of giggles. All the while some small, rational part of her was aware that Joey was staring at her and that he hadn't actually said anything all _that _funny.

"You remind me of my sister," he said when she had almost calmed down. "She does that."

"No-one's ever called her 'the evil lady' before," Cintya said, not bothering to explain the giggling because he probably understood. "Certainly no-one would dare do it to her face, least of all me. You see . . . ." She paused, considering how best to explain her predicament. She wondered suddenly if it was a good idea to tell this kid at all; she didn't really know him. So he was easy to talk to, seemed to understand. So what? He could spill her secrets at any time.

Surprisingly, the rational part of her brain opened her mouth and kept talking. "She is sort of evil. And I never really noticed before. At first I was a sort of secretary, see, and I didn't really know the plan, and then I figured it out but it didn't seem so bad, since all we were really doing was building this place and spying on the Kaibas, learning their habits. I mean, I knew she and Michael were doing something shady for money, but, well, I didn't . . . I wasn't raised to . . ."

Joey shrugged. "I don't have the greatest background myself."

Cintya smiled gratefully. "It all changed when people got involved. The Kaibas are good guys, you know –"

"You just mean Mokuba, right?"

"You know them?"

"No, Kaiba called some complete stranger to –"

"Right, that was stupid. No, I mean both of them."

Joey raised both eyebrows. "You get _along_ wit' Seto Kaiba?"

"Yes . . ."

"Wow. I admire you." Joey bowed to her, as sweepingly as he could in the close confines of the car.

Cintya giggled. "I guess you don't like him much?"

"Ya kiddin' me. I can't stand the guy, and trust me, it's mutual."

"Then why'd he ask you to come?"

Joey shrugged again. "'Cause he'd rather wreck my free time than anyone else's, or 'cause he knows I'm pissed about what happened to Yugi, or 'cause he's finally cracked. You tell me."

"Oh, I hope he's not cracked," Cintya said. "Then the only sane people in this duel would be you and me, the ones who aren't really involved." She was only half joking.

"So this Echeverria . . . "

"I really think she's got a problem, you know . . . I never really thought she'd go through with this, but . . ."

Joey nodded and fell silent. Cintya was suddenly acutely aware that she had been sitting in a car in the middle of the jungle, spilling her soul to a complete stranger. But such a little, lost stranger – no, a big lost stranger – still, it was plain that he _really _didn't want to be there.

"If you could be anywhere in the world right now," she said abruptly, "where would it be?"

"South Korea," he said promptly. "If anything happens – it's my brother in that hospital – I should be there – it's not right; I feel like something'll happen while I'm gone . . ."

"What's your brother's name?"

"I meant Yugi." He cut her off even before she had opened her mouth. "No, we're not technically brothers, but. Ah – where would you go?"

He had caught her off guard, but she wouldn't have known the answer anyway. "Somewhere far – but not too far. Maybe meet people who aren't constantly breaking the law – live aboveground, so to speak – duel . . . what am I talking about?" Cintya shook her head sharply and fumbled for the keys. She spoke as she began to drive again, slowly in case the conversation took any more startling turns, "It'll never happen. I'm in too deep; I can't get out."

Joey was silent for several minutes as they bumped down the road. Cintya watched him from the corner of her eye; he appeared to be digesting information. When she saw him open his mouth, she slammed on the brakes.

"I think you've had enough crashes for a while," she explained at his questioning glance. "What is it?"

He was still looking at her oddly but spoke as though nothing had happened. "It's never too late, you know. You could still get out. You might like Japan. I bet you could get Kaiba to give you a job – not all that many people get along with him."

For a brief moment Cintya allowed herself to entertain the fantasy. Then she shook her head. "No offense, but what do you know about it?"

"I was in a gang."

"You _what?_" Cintya stared at him. "All right. Definitely a good thing I stopped the car."

" . . . Right. Whatever."

"Still," she said, "it's different. A gang doesn't have as much power. Massimina has money, and money is power."

"But I have to live in the same city as the gang," Joey pointed out.

"God, aren't you afraid to walk the streets?"

"Joey Wheeler," he said fiercely, "is never afraid. But this ain't about me, it's about you. Look, all you need to get out of these things is a little nerve and someone to tell you to get your ass in gear, and that's me."

"It certainly is," Cintya agreed. "But I haven't got the nerve. She'd find me; I know she would; she'd take my leaving as a personal insult."

"So live a life of danger."

Cintya flexed her fingers on the steering wheel. "I grew up in Japan," she said softly. "It might be nice. I don't even speak Chinese very well. Where are you from? Is it the same place as the Kaibas?"

Joey nodded. "Domino City."

"Domino," Cintya repeated wistfully. She sighed and reached for the ignition again. "Oh well. Maybe I'll get lucky and Massimina'll drink herself to death."

"You could set her on fire," Joey suggested flippantly.

"Thanks, but I'd rather not wind up in jail for matricide."

They drove the rest of the way in silence.

Cintya was thinking furiously.

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_So. You wish to have a body._

Yami blinked. No one really knew what happened when the Shadow Realm held an audience, of course. Very few had ever done it, and those who had _never_ revealed details. But somehow, he had expected it to be . . . _different._ Really, because everything was the same. The same purple-black landscape, the same nothingness. Maybe he had imagined the fall. The only difference was the Voice.

_A body, _it repeated, as though waiting for a response. Yami wasn't sure what to do.

"Yes," he chanced, only no sound escaped him. He opened his mouth again – or he tried. It wasn't working properly. Yami was momentarily distracted, trying to figure out if this was a new development. While he was thus occupied, the Voice spoke – thought? projected? – again.

_Baka Pharaoh. _It sounded amused. Yami quit thinking and listened.

_Even the wisest are not always correct. And you don't have the greatest track record when it comes to decisions, do you? No. You have a different purpose than you think you do. Your purpose requires you to stay where you are. In the form you take presently. The worlds are bigger than your ideas. We hope not to see you again._

Just like that, it was over.

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Routine, even if it was an entirely new one, was comforting. This was why Tea could once again be found curled in a corner of the gift shop, halfway through a different novel without paying it much attention. She was wishing she could know how Yugi was doing and thinking that she would have to reread soon, because a Korean gift shop did not have many Japanese books. She wondered what Joey and Kaiba were doing in China. She wished she were home, where there were more than two people to talk to and she could at least find a more interesting book.

All in all, she was paying very little attention to the adventures of the tall, dark, and handsome hero when Alisa found her again. Tea jumped up in a panic, knocking over a stack of books. "What happened?"

"Relax!" the intern said quickly. Sighing, she started to pick up the paperbacks. Tea, slightly abashed, knelt to help. "You're going home," Alisa told her softly.

"Really?" Tea stuck the book she had been reading into a the stack, disregarding the fact that all the other books were in Korean. She thought longingly of Domino and her own bed.

It was funny: she had been away from home for longer before, much longer. But somehow, these lonely days had seemed to stretch forever.

A sudden, disturbing thought occurred to her, making her straighten up suddenly. She narrowly missed toppling the pile of books again. "But – what about Yugi? Is he – "

"He's going too."

"How?"

Alisa grinned. "By helicopter. There's room for you two if you'd like, but it's cramped. Not the most pleasant of rides."

"We'll take it anyway," Tea said fervently. "I haven't got the money for a plane ticket. Speaking of which, what's going to happen with Yugi's hospital bills?"

Alisa stood and offered Tea a hand, pulling her to her feet. "We'll work out a payment schedule with his grandfather," she assured the younger girl. "If you're going with the copter, you better get moving. Leaves in an hour. Come on."

"He's not awake, though," Tea said as they left the gift shop.

"No." Alisa tugged her out of the way of a horde of medics wheeling a stretcher through the emergency room. Tea caught a glimpse of the pale, haggard face of a middle-aged man. A doctor was shouting instructions in Korean.

"Alisa?" She caught up to the young woman at the elevators. "This . . . this is good, right?"

The intern didn't answer for a moment. She pummeled the button for the top floor with one hand and put the other arm around Tea's shoulders. Tapping her foot impatiently, she looked up at the ceiling and punched the button again.

"Don't get your hopes up," she said simply.

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When they arrived at "home sweet home," Cintya showed Joey to a room connected to Seto's and left the boys, who looked anything but happy to see each other, to their own devices. She set off at a run for the other side of the complex and Mokuba's room. Bursting through the door without knocking, she found Michael playing chess with the young boy. The game appeared to be locked in a stalemate.

"Michael," she said breathlessly, "I need to talk to you."

"Aww," Mokuba moaned, flopping back against the side of the bed. "Hey, Cintya, how's my big brother doing?"

"He's fine," Cintya said. "Michael, let's – no, we can talk here." She plopped onto Mokuba's bed and sat cross-legged with her chin in her hands. "Help," she said conversationally. "I can't go through with this."

"Go through with what?" Mokuba sat up and twisted around to face her. Michael squinted at her for a moment, then looked down and began to gather up the chess pieces. Cintya took the opportunity to explain things to the younger Kaiba.

"Your brother thinks he can win. But Massimina does not plan on keeping her word. Either way, you and he will lose. Have you ever tried to look through that door?" She gestured toward the wall opposite the hall.

"I've _tried," _Mokuba said warily. "It's locked."

_Smart boy, _Cintya thought. She slipped a key off the ring at her waist and unlocked the door for him. He stood a step behind her to peer through it. _Yes, a very smart boy. _She looked too.

There wasn't much to see. A small, dank room with no windows contained a single chair, bolted to the floor and equipped with thick leather straps to hold its occupant in place. Above it dangled an enormous – and heavy – rock. A metal chain ran over a bar and through a hole in the wall, forming a makeshift pulley to hold up the menacing stone.

"This is why we had to build from scratch," Cintya said emotionlessly. "The duel arena is on the other side of the wall; the chain is attached to the side of Massimina's stand. If anything goes wrong – if we start to lose, or she thinks I'm not playing my best – "

Michael slammed the door and locked it with his own key. "That's _enough."_

Mokuba was now plastered against the opposite wall, but neither sibling noticed. "I can't," Cintya said earnestly. "Please, Michael. We have to do something."

"I've done plenty."

"What, the whole plane deal?" Watching his face, she knew she had hit it. "Look, you can make it up. I think. But if you help me now, it's got to be at least a start. And – " Suddenly, she remembered. "I just met one of those kids – long story – they're alive. For now, anyway . . . "

Michael's expression was unfathomable. "Keep talking."

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Seto and Joey stayed up late into the night, dueling and talking strategy. And _not_ fighting, Seto told himself firmly. Now of all times, he was _not_ letting the mutt get to him.

Perhaps some of his comments could be construed as biting, but they were meant in the utmost concern. Truly.

"What is with you?" he finally asked. "You're almost presenting a challenge." Actually, the duel had been going on for hours; and Seto was beginning to feel he couldn't win, but no need to tell Wheeler that.

"I don't know." Joey looked at his deck as though he had never seen it before. "I thought this mix would be hard to play with, but . . ."

Seto fingered his cards and waited for him to finish rambling. It worked much better than telling the mutt to shut up, although the latter was more satisfying.

"It's almost easy – it's like – " Joey pounded a fist onto the table in frustration. "It's like I played with it a million times before, only I haven't for a year, and I need to get used to it again. Only I never played with it before – not really." Abruptly he changed the subject. "What's matricide?"

"Killing of one's mother." If Seto had cared, he would have been confused. However, he did not care, and therefore was not confused. Truly.

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All was dark. The blackness pressed in on him like a heavy blanket, suffocating. He couldn't breathe; he had to get out –

He fought wildly, as though against a current, and was eventually rewarded by a red explosion and a thrumming sensation. For a moment, he thought he heard the beat of wings, but it was so much easier to let it go, let the darkness take him . . .

If he didn't fight for a while, he discovered, he no longer needed to.

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_This is it, _Joey said to himself. _This is what I came to China to do. After this I can leave._

_Just have to get through it now._

Morning had finally come and with it, Cintya, looking far more cheerful than anyone had a right to be. Maybe she really enjoyed this, Joey thought now, looking across the field at her. May be all he had seen yesterday was a lie, a clever ploy to get him to trust her.

If so, It had worked. Joey knew he wasn't much against cleverness, unless it was on the dueling arena. Heart of the Underdog again. Joey sighed and made himself focus, scanning the room.

A standard tag-team deulling field dominated. Next to him Kaiba was standing straight and tall as always, somehow managing to exude authority even as a prisoner, eyes fixed on something across the room. Joey followed his gaze to Cintya, who was fidgeting with her deck, and then to Massimina Echeverria, the woman of the moment and in her element. A thick metal chain was attatched to the arena wall by her hand, setting alarm bells off in Joey's head. _This _must be what Kaiba was staring at. It couldn't be good.

Joey cut another glance at the young CEO; this time he was lucky enough to catch a flutter of emotion before Kaiba noticed his gaze. He looked back at his deck and thought of Serenity, safe in Japan. An unexpected wave of pity swept through him. At least he wasn't in Kaiba's shoes – Joey's instincts told him that Mokuba was absolutely not safe.

"Deck," said a voice beside him. Joey jumped and looked into the face of a large muscled man with close-cropped dark hair. He was holding a silver tray with a space for one deck, which was occupied. Joey exchanged his own deck for the one on the tray and glanced across at Cintya. These cards were hers, he was sure. He cut them carelessly, watching anxiously as she did the same with his.

After all four decks had been shuffled and returned to their respective owners, the unfamiliar man took his place along the wall and Echeverria played the first card.

Joey was so swept up in the duel that he didn't notice when the stranger slipped out in the middle of an attack.

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Michael did not like it when people died. Of course, the trusted henchman – not to mention son – of a crazed criminal was not supposed to be queasy about such a commonplace event, but there you were. He didn't even like movies where someone died; Cintya had dragged him to a horror flick once and he'd promptly resolved never to go again. Too many people, dead no good reason, killed carelessly, and the people who made the movie hadn't hinted at the effects of death.

Death was felt, Michael knew, even years and years afterward. Death was permanent.

It had been eight years since his return home, and never before had his mother shown a lust for murder. Extortion and revenge, money and power, yes; the complex in the jungle had been the site of many such operations over the years. All undercover, of course; Michael was the resident expert in staying off the radar. This could almost be another one of those, if it weren't for the plane crash or the goddamned rock. So primitive.

Cintya said the kids from the plane were alive. Of course, Cintya also said that he was a marshmallow at heart, but Michael was of the opinion that someone who was okay with theft, extortion, and the, ahem, physical intimidation of others was not a marshmallow. Michael would admit to liking fresh air, but only because he did not see how that made one a marshmallow. His sister was just weird that way.

Maybe in another life he would have been a farmer. Maybe he still could be.

Michael thought of the boy, the one who had come to duel with Kaiba. He remembered him from the plane; he was alive. Maybe the others were too, as Cintya had said, although Michael had not expected anyone to survive the crash. But he could not keep wondering why he had done it, Cintya said; he could only prevent further deaths.

Michael found it very amusing that for eight years he had been trying to protect Cintya from the darker side of their mother, but he was now relying on her advice.

Could she be right, he wondered as his feet brought him closer and closer to Mokuba Kaiba's door, about Massimina's power being in her helpers? He stared at the kid's door for a while, then made his decision.

Two people, Michael discovered in that moment, could start a revolution.

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_Tbc . . ._

_Two chapters left, and school starts tomorrow. Needless to say, I did not make my self-imposed deadline; and those last updates might take a little longer; but I am determined to finish this soon!_

_Please review!_


	7. Away

_Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh. Neither am I Michael Carpovitch. In fact, I'm not sure I spelled his name right. The bit about the heart in the jar on the desk is borrowed from Stephen King; I don't own that either._

_A/N: And school is back in session . . . and marching band and art history homework take a lot of time. Sorry I didn't update sooner, but in my defense, I've practically been dreaming about schedule changes. Anyway, the site can be evil, as I'm sure we all know, so I had to change the notation for the Pharaoh speaking. His words are now in bold._

_Thanks to **Landi McClellan, crystal ice614 **and** Mage Skywalker **for reviewing._

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**Chapter Six: Away**

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_Only the strongest people in this world have the guts to cry._

_--Michael Carpovitch_

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_Dragons, _Cintya grumbled mentally as she drew her next card. Joey and Seto were very fond of dragons; between them they had four on the field. _Two Blue Eyes, a Red Eyes and a Curse of Dragon. Variety, please. This'll be their downfall. _She smiled at the card in her hand. It would be their downfall _now._

A soft gasp from across the arena broke the tense silence. Cintya looked to the door and laughed with relief: Mokuba, pale and shaky on his feet but quite alive, Michael a few steps behind.

"Mokuba!" Seto gripped the side of the arena with his free hand.

Had Seto not been several feet off the ground on a dueling platform, Cintya thought Mokuba would have run to him. As it was, he contented himself with, "Hey, big brother."

"Are you all right?" Seto asked urgently. When his brother answered yes, his face melted into a smile.

_Have I ever seen him smile before? _Joey caught her eye and raised an eyebrow, but he was grinning, too.

"Michael," Massimina said shrilly, her normally low voice rising several octaves, "what is going on here?"

Cintya resisted the urge to bang her head on the game display. They still had to put up with _her. _It was enough to make her wonder why she had been doing it for so long.

One of the questions she and Michael had discussed last night: when had their mother turned into this madwoman, and how was she controlling their lives? Money was only money, after all. Family ties were as much as you made of them. Cintya wanted someone to look at her the way Seto was gazing at his little brother.

"Michael?" Massimina said again. "Answer me!"

Cintya looked across the field, between the Red Eyes and the Curse of Dragon, to find Joey, who was watching Michael, expecting a comeback – or at least an answer.

_All you need to get out of these things is a little nerve and someone to tell you to get your ass in gear._

She took a deep breath and slammed her hand onto her deck. The thump drew all eyes to her. "I quit," she said evenly.

"_What?" _Massimina, Seto and Joey all said it at once; only Michael and Mokuba grinned at her. She took strength from them.

"I quit," she repeated, and turned her attention to the problem of getting down from the platform. Massimina controlled the mechanism; maybe she would have to jump.

"You – you can't do that," Massimina sputtered. "No, no, no – "

"Watch me." Cintya collected her cards and looked wistfully at her last hand before tucking the whole deck into her pocket. Too bad she'd never find out if she could have won.

Massimina, she noted with a strange pleasure, was on the verge of hysterics. "I'll find you!" she screeched. "You'll never be safe!"

Old threats. "I don't think so." Cintya put both hands on the railing and vaulted over and out. When she landed hard, knees bent, it hit her. She had just betrayed her own mother, thrown away her safety and the life she had always known. She had torn it all down; she had no idea what would happen next.

Still half hunched over, her hair veiling her face, she scanned the faces around her: Massimina livid, Michael proud, Mokuba relieved, Joey grinning. Seto staring as if he had never seen anything quite like her.

She had done the _right thing._

Breathless and slightly dizzy, triumphant, Cintya Kabat straightened and turned to the crazed woman who had, for as long as she could remember, dictated her life. "Guess what?" she said. "I'm not afraid of you anymore."

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"Tea? Are you okay?"

She didn't move when Tristan slid down the wall to sit next to her. He awkwardly put an arm around her shoulders and said, "Makes you wonder why we fought so hard to know what's going on, doesn't it?"

Tea nodded. They had just left the conference room where, with the absent-minded permission of Grandpa Moto, they had finally been able to hear a diagnosis for Yugi. Tea couldn't even remember the first part – pneumonia? Meningitis? Something like that. But in sharp contrast, the doctor's other words still rang in her ears: " – helped along by a not-so-healthy dose of infection." Infection from cuts and gashes sustained during the crash . . . .

Tristan was watching her closely. "Something wrong?" At the look she threw him he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, bad question. I meant besides that."

"Where'd Grandpa go?"

"Down to the ICU to sit with Yugi, and don't change the subject."

Tea hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. "It's my fault."

"What?" She felt him shift next to her but kept her eyes trained on the floor. "Tea, that's ridiculous."

"Infection," she murmured to the floor. It, at least, looked sympathetic. She imagined that it had played host to other upset visitors before.

"No-one can stop these things."

"I had the first aid kit right there," Tea said miserably. "There must have been something – I didn't think – "

"None of us thought of it. And look, none of the rest of us had any problems. It was a fluke, Tea – Yugi was already sick. That's all. Bad luck."

Tea sniffed, unwilling to listen. "Not everything depends on luck."

"For us it does," Tristan said grimly. "And our luck is all bad. Until the very last second, and then it turns good." He stood and pulled her up after him. Reluctantly, Tea looked into his eyes. They were hard and blazing.

His eyes held conviction.

"You have to believe that," he said. "It always turns out right."

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With Cintya out of the picture, the boys took approximately a minute and a half to annihilate Massimina's life points. Michael had to push her away from the controls to let the platforms down; he then twisted her arms behind her and marched her out of the room. Their absence went unnoticed as Mokuba rushed into his brother's open arms.

Joey looked to Cintya. "She woulda killed him," he said, a statement.

"Yes." She peered up at him curiously. "How did you know?"

"I got far too much experience with this kind of thing."

Cintya laughed; Joey noticed she had yet to stop smiling. "With the gang, you mean?"

"More than that. Side effect of havin' a best friend who attracts the most trouble on the planet." _Yugi, _he thought, _Shoot, Yugi._

"Trouble like this?"

"Duh. How'd ya think I got here?"

"Plane," she quipped.

The pair fell silent and watched the Kaibas, who had moved several feet away and were talking excitedly. Cintya looked at them with an odd expression in her eyes: a strange mixture of joy and wistfulness. "We," she said conversationally, " are outsiders."

"You got that right," Joey agreed. "What are you gonna do now?"

She laughed again, held a hand to her forehead, and confessed, "I have no idea."

"We talked about Domino."

"Yeah . . . "

Michael came back in at that moment. "What do you think?" he asked as he approached. "Should we call the authorities or leave her to starve?"

"Leave her," Joey said immediately, then remembered he had no real say in the situation.

Cintya shuddered. "No."

"Your call," Michael told her.

"My call," she repeated softly. She glowed; no other word Joey knew could describe it. "We're free."

"You were free all along," Joey reminded them. "You just needed to realize it."

"Call the authorities," Cintya said. "They have doctors in prisons, don't they? Maybe they can help her."

"Authorities it is." Michael left.

Cintya's smile was fading. "It was different when I was little," she confided. "She was nice. We had fun. And then – I must have been about eleven – she changed. Started drinking a lot. And this – vendetta. To be top top top. And KaibaCorp – that was sudden." She was quiet for a moment. "I was fourteen when she told me never to call her Mom. I remember that."

Joey had an inexplicable urge to hug her, but restrained himself.

"I don't even know what made her change . . . "

"I do," a voice said, and Kaiba's hand landed on her shoulder. "She as good as told me. Her boyfriend dumped her after an eight-year-old beat her in an exhibition chess match. She must have been pretty serious about him."

"She used to be good at chess," Cintya murmured absently. "The alcohol – she's not as sharp. That boyfriend? I never liked him anyway. Something about the way he looked at me . . . " She shivered and peered up at Kaiba. "You were the eight-year-old?"

He nodded and squeezed her shoulder. "I owe you a thank you. Both of you."

Cintya blushed. Joey was on the verge of puffing out his chest and saying something boastful – he wasn't sure what – when his hand in his pocket brushed his deck – not his: his and Yugi's. Uncharacteristically he decided to tell the truth. "I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did," Cintya said, but she did not elaborate.

"If there's anything I can do for either of you," said Kaiba, looking as though he had just drunk some particularly bitter cough medicine. Joey swallowed his laughter.

"Cintya here could use a favor," he suggested, winking at her.

She turned an even deeper shade of red. "I – well – I – "

"Out with it," said Kaiba impatiently.

"I was sort of hoping I could apply for a job," she said in a rush.

Kaiba looked as though he had been expecting this, perhaps hoping for it. "You're on."

"I – what?"

"You're on. I was looking for a new secretary anyway."

"Don't you want an application – references – "

"I imagine you don't have references," he said dryly. "It doesn't matter. We'll give you a ride. You too," he added, turning to Joey. "It's the least we can do."

"Thanks," Joey said, "but – "

"Oh yes, South Korea. Tell me, do you ever get tired of all this friendship stuff?"

Joey saw red. He took a step forward, seriously considering pounding Kaiba to a bloody pulp; but Cintya grabbed his arm; and at the same moment a harsh _brrrring_ penetrated the room.

Cintya checked her pocket. "Not me." Kaiba was already answering his cell phone.

Joey was weighing the cost of replacing a cell against the satisfaction of knocking out all of Kaiba's teeth – _one by one _– when the CEO, looking rather puzzled, held out the phone to him. "It's for you."

"Say what?"

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "Answer it so we can get out of here."

Not knowing what to expect, Joey took the phone. "Hello?"

"Joey. How'd it go?"

"Tea!" Joey jumped at her voice and Cintya giggled. He glared and turned away. "It, uh, it went okay."

"Great." He got the impression she didn't really care all that much. "Listen, Joey, you can come straight back to Domino; we're all here."

Her voice sounded odd, he thought dimly; had she developed a cold? "Yugi?" he asked. His own voice didn't sound entirely normal . . .

"They decided to move him here and we came along . . . Grandpa was here to meet us. Joey – " She was crying. Had she been doing that the whole time?

"Tea. Tea? Talk to me!" His back stiffened in panic; he was vaguely aware of the others in the room staring at him. "Tea – shh, I'll come, I'll come, tell me – tell me somethin' . . . "

"Joey?"

Never, in his whole life, had Joey been so glad to hear Tristan's voice. "She's overreacting," he said. "Please, God, Tristan, tell me she's overreactin'. She does that. She – "

"They'll talk to us here," Tristan interrupted. "'Cause of Gramps. They say – " His voice caught. "It looks bad, Joey. It really does."

Joey shut his eyes against the burning lights. The room hadn't been so bright a moment ago. "Okay," he said. It came out scratchy; he cleared his throat and tried again. "Okay. I'll . . . I'll get there as soon as I can."

"Good." Tristan sounded relieved. "Joey – "

"Yeah?"

" . . . I don't know."

"Me neither." A bond of understanding stretched between the boys, full of the things both were feeling and neither would say. Joey attempted a smile, although he wasn't sure who it was for. "I'll see you soon."

"Hurry," Tristan said and hung up.

Joey drew in a deep breath and turned around. Cintya and Mokuba studied him anxiously; Kaiba seemed mildly interested. Michael – Joey could not remember when he had picked up the name – was hovering in the doorway.

Joey cleared his throat again, but he sounded odd anyway. "Can I take you up on that ride?"

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Coming home to an empty house (or Millennium Puzzle) when someone is supposed to _be there_ is an unsettling experience. Yami blinked, getting his bearings, and then wrenched open the door to his soul room. The link – he could not feel another presence – but that could mean anything. It would take a moment, surely that was all –

Yugi's soul room was empty.

Instantly he turned and left the Puzzle. The bedroom above the game shop came into focus – yes, that was normal – but when he turned and saw the Puzzle hung neatly on the bedpost, he had room for only one thought:

_Why?_

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"We tried, Joey," Tea said hopelessly. "They'll talk to us, but they won't let us in."

Joey swore and shoved the heels of his hands into his eyes. He felt Tristan grab him and push him down into the nearest chair. "You," the other boy said matter-of-factly, "are about to fall over."

"I don't even wanna think about how much sleep I lost," Joey mumbled. Miles walking, nights tossing and turning, hours dueling. Very little resting in the past – he couldn't remember what day it was. The past week, maybe? He dropped his hands and stared bleakly across the hospital lobby. All lobbies, he thought dully, looked alike. It was hard to tell they were back in Domino.

"Look," Tea said gently, "we should all go home for a while – "

"No!" Joey shook his head violently. "I have to see Yugi – "

"Joey, it's two in the morning. Grandpa is with Yugi. You need to sleep. We _all _need to sleep," she said fairly, glancing at Tristan for affirmation.

Tristan agreed. "She's right, man. We can come back in the morning."

Joey pulled away from them both and approached the front desk. "Excuse me, I'd like some information about Yugi Moto – "

"No, you cannot see him unless you're a family member, which you're not because he only has his grandfather, and if you want any further information, ask the obstinate young people standing behind you." Joey blinked; the night clerk shook his head, amused. "After fielding countless questions from those two," he said dryly, "one learns what they or any friends of theirs are likely to say. They're right, by the way. You obviously need to sleep, and you're not doing any good here anyway since you're not family."

"As good as," Joey said fiercely, getting over his surprise. _Nothing like a good argument to wake a guy up. _"Like you said, he's only got his grandpa, and Gramps needs the rest more than I do. Than we do. We . . . " On the other hand, he mused, to argue was impossible when you couldn't think of anything to say.

The clerk surveyed him thoughtfully. "You make a fair point. However, I can assure you that at the moment Mr. Moto is much more well rested than you. Go home. Sleep. Don't you dare come back before ten-thirty – preferably two in the afternoon. I'll see what I can do."

Joey opened his mouth to argue some more, but Tea yanked him away by the ear. "That's the best you're going to get," she said and suddenly threw her arms around him. "Joey," she said into his shoulder, "you are a miracle worker. How did you _do _that?"

"No idea." Joey could hear Tristan thanking the night clerk profusely, and then all three of them were standing by the door.

For a moment no-one said anything. Joey looked out at the night and sighed. He'd have to take a bus, he thought dismally, all the way across town. Now that the deal had been made, he wanted to sleep right where he was.

Tristan read his mind. "C'mon. You can camp out at my place for tonight; it's a lot closer. You okay, Tea?"

"I'll be fine." Tea hugged her arms, shivering slightly when a gust of cool night air blew in through the open door. "It's not far."

Again there was silence.

"Ten-thirty," Tristan said finally.

"Ten-thirty," Joey echoed.

Tea nodded. "Ten-thirty."

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Joey woke the next morning at nine when the sun spilled onto his face where lay on the Taylors' couch. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, hoping to go back to sleep; his whole body ached from exhaustion, but something was nagging at the back of his mind and wouldn't let him rest. With a sigh he got up and stumbled into the kitchen, where Tristan was scrambling a pan of eggs. When he saw Joey, he threw the spatula at him. "Go back to bed."

Joey ducked; the spatula hit the wall behind him and slid to the floor, leaving a trail of egg whites. "Since when do you cook?"

"Since I am too hungry for cereal." Tristan pointed exaggeratedly to the spatula, to the sink, and mimed washing. "Make yourself useful. Then go take a shower. You stink, man."

Sighing gustily, Joey retrieved the offending spatula and ran it under water. "_I _stink? What about you?"

"I'm clean!" Tristan protested, snatching the spatula back to stir the eggs. "I just showered."

"Exactly. You smell like my sister."

Tristan sniffed, looked slightly surprised, and recovered quickly. "It's all the rage," he said lightly.

"What is?"

"Using your girlfriend's shampoo."

Joey snorted. "In your dreams. I bet that's your mom's."

"Maybe. So? I picked up the wrong bottle, and now I smell like flowers. The fact remains that you smell like you haven't taken a shower in a week."

"What day is it?"

Tristan raised his arm to throw the spatula, then apparently thought better of it. "Wednesday, doofus."

"I haven't. Taken a shower. We left last Wednesday."

Looking thoughtful, Tristan stopped halfway through lifting the pan off the stove. "We did. That's weird."

Joey nodded and went to take the shower without another word.

He and Tristan ate slowly, in semi-silence; both had one eye on the clock, willing the hands to move faster. (The clock did not oblige.) By nine-thirty they had done everything they could think of – even washed the dishes – and were antsy in the extreme.

Joey knew he should have been tired: exhausted, really; but his eyes would not stay closed when he tried to make them. _When this is over, _he said to himself, _I am gonna sleep for two days straight._

"Let's go," he said suddenly, an attempt not to think about what "over" might mean. He started for the door.

"Ten-thirty," Tristan reminded him.

Joey paused, one hand on the doorknob, and considered this. "That guy's probably not even there anymore. Besides, what can he do?"

"I don't know, and I don't want to find out." Tristan sighed and pushed past him out the door. "We can go. Someplace else."

"The game shop," Joey said once they were walking down the street.

Tristan gave him a Look. "Hate to break it to you, man, but _no-one's there._"

"So maybe Grandpa forgot somethin', and we can bring it to him."

"How do we know what he forgot?"

"Whatever!" Joey kicked a fallen can so hard it skittered halfway down the block and under a parked car. _Score!_ "Let's just go. It's far enough so's we can walk there and get to the hospital right on your precious time."

"Good point," Tristan conceded.

"I do try." Joey aimed another vicious kick at a passing black cat.

A summer thunderstorm decided to hit when they were just a block away from the shop. They ran; Joey attempted to kick the door open with no success. Tristan solved the problem by rescuing a key from under the doormat and unlocking the door, and they stumbled inside.

The rain drumming on the roof seemed distant now. Joey shook his head and water sprayed everywhere, the drops' landing unnaturally loud. Tristan's footsteps echoed when he started down a dimly lit aisle; and he stopped, uncertain.

Joey looked around. The game shop had never been so quiet in his memory. True, even on a normal Wednesday it would not open until eleven, but Mr. Moto was always around, and he was _loud._

"It's like a ghost town," Tristan said softly.

Joey nodded shortly and walked, for no particular reason, towards the back of the shop and the Motos' living space. He climbed the stairs and wandered aimlessly down the hallway. He knew these rooms as well as his own apartment, and much better than the school building. It was usually noisy up here too.

When he peeked through Yugi's door, he thought he would fall over in shock. There, hanging innocently from the bedpost, was something he had completely forgotten about – the Millennium Puzzle.

Once Joey recovered, he crossed the room in two strides and lifted the Puzzle with trembling hands. He had _forgotten. _How could he have forgotten about the Pharaoh? Something had been different about Yugi, he remembered, but he hadn't been able to put his finger on it until halfway through the trip – and then they had crashed and it had slipped his mind. Slipped all their minds. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Impulsively he slipped the heavy gold chain over his head and was met with a frantic Pharaoh. **Yugi, is that you?**

"No," Joey said aloud.

The spirit's voice in his head was frighteningly cold. **Joseph Wheeler, _tell me what happened._**

Joey was irresistibly reminded of a scolding parent or teacher, and he would have laughed except that he was, quite suddenly, crying. Horrified, he scrubbed at his eyes with both hands. "I – we – I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I forgot . . . it's a long story."

Tristan's voice sounded outside the door. "What, Joey, are you talking to yourse – oh. Holy crap."

"You're tellin' me." Joey sank onto the bed and buried his head in his hands. "Tristan, help. How do I explain things?

**Joey,** the Pharaoh said urgently, **you don't have to tell me. Just open your mind.**

_Say what?_ Joey felt the mattress dip as Tristan sat beside him in silence.

**I heard that.** The Pharaoh almost sounded amused. Almost. The whole situation, Joey reflected, would have been a lot funnier if not for the fact that nothing about it was funny.

**Joey. Pay _attention. _Concentrate on what I should know. Open your mind to me. I am, after all, in it.**

_Boy, that makes me feel a whole lot better._

**Just do it!**

Obediently, Joey brought to mind the crash. He imagined days spent in the Korean jungle, Yugi's collapse, the hospital, his own summons to China, the call, returning to Domino . . .

"Joey? Are you okay, man?" Tristan's hand was on his shoulder, and Joey realized he was shaking, tears slipping down his face again.

"'M fine," he muttered, embarrassed, swiping at his eyes. "Just . . . remembering." _Happy?_ he growled mentally.

The Pharaoh was silent: Joey checked to make sure he was still wearing the Puzzle. He was. _Look, I know it's hard, but at least tell me you got all that._

**I did indeed.** Joey got the distinct impression that the Pharaoh was struggling to keep his calm. **Tell me, why were you on the plane in the first place?**

_Yugi got called to help Kaiba out. _Joey frowned. _Hang on, you were there that day._

**I was not.**

_Yes you were; it was the day school ended and – _

**I left,** the Pharaoh interrupted smoothly, **several days before that. I was in the Shadow Realm on a mission of personal nature.**

Joey didn't bother to ask. _Well, Yugi was definitely wearing the Puzzle that day. But not the next. He must have left it here._

**Yes, but _why?_**

_Dunno. We'll hafta ask him. _With a pang, Joey remembered that they might not be able to ask Yugi anything. The Pharaoh could not be taking this well. _D'you want me to leave you alone? _he offered.

**Please. Are you going to the hospital?**

_Really soon. Like now. I'll take the Puzzle._

**Thank you, Joey.**

Joey pulled the Puzzle off and turned to Tristan, who was still gazing at him in concern. "Did you find anything else we need to bring?"

"Besides that? Of course not. We should go now." Tristan stood, pulling Joey to his feet. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Joey rubbed tear tracks off his cheeks. "Let's go."

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"Hey, you. Taylor! Wait."

Tristan groaned and stopped just short of the bottom steps. His first thought was, _I know that voice, _immediately followed by, _What is Seto Kaiba doing at the hospital?_

"G'head," he muttered to Joey, who was halfway up the stairs, looking down at him in confusion, the Millennium Puzzle looped about his wrist. "This won't take long – at least, it better not." He said the last part darkly under his breath as he turned to face Kaiba, hearing Joey run up the steps behind him. Tristan comforted himself with the fact that they didn't yet now if they'd get in to see Yugi anyway.

As soon as Kaiba reached him, Tristan snapped, "Make this quick."

"Believe it or not," the CEO said dryly, "I don't particularly want to talk to you either. Can I trust you to deliver a message?"

"Depends."

Kaiba sniffed. "Of course it does. Look, tell Mr. Moto to send the hospital bills to KaibaCorp."

It took Tristan a moment to recover from the sheer absurdity of that statement. "_What?"_

"I said I'll foot the hospital bills."

Tristan shook his head to clear it. He _had _been wondering how Yugi's grandfather was going to pay – hospital fees were momentous, and his own stay in the one in South Korea had been a matter of luck and, according to Alisa, media attention – but this solution had never even occurred to him. "But _why?"_

"It's the least I can do." Kaiba scowled. "Not to mention Mokuba and Cintya have been pestering me about it nonstop."

"Who's Cintya?"

"Ask Wheeler. Now if you don't mind, I'm very busy. Will you pass on the message?"

"Sure." _I, _Tristan said to himself as he watched Kaiba leave through the lobby's revolving doors, _have just witnessed a miracle._

When he joined Joey and Tea on the fifth floor outside the nurses' station, he remarked, "Kaiba just might have a heart after all."

"Sure," Tea snorted. "In a jar on his desk."

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_Tbc . . ._

_One chapter left! Have you reviewed yet?_


	8. PROCEED WITH CAUTION

_Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh or any good poetry (meaning Silverstein)._

_A/N: Back again and have finished all my weekend homework, yay. Thanks to **Landi McClellan, crystal ice614 **and **Trikki **(sorry) for reviewing. Hope you enjoy!_

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**Chapter Seven: PROCEED WITH CAUTION**

(Subtitled,Reunion and several phone calls)

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_Listen to the NEVER HAVEs,_

_Then listen close to me._

_Anything can happen, child,_

_ANYTHING can be._

_--Shel Silverstein _

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For the second time in as many days, Tea found herself wondering if something they had fought for was worth the trouble after all.

"Only during visiting hours," the nurse informed them sternly. "That means you have to leave at six and you can't come back until two tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am!" Joey saluted her, and the corners of her mouth quivered in an almost-smile.

"No more than three visitors at a time."

The boys glanced at each other. "Who's gonna make Grandpa leave?" Tristan muttered.

The nurse heard him. "Mr. Moto fell asleep a few hours ago. We managed to convince him to go home, shower and rest. Everyone needs to, you know." She was met with enthusiastic nods all around. "You are not to touch him."

Joey shifted the Millennium Puzzle uneasily but said nothing.

"Talk to him."

Tea, who had been hanging back for most of the conversation, looked up sharply. "He can hear us?"

"Quite possibly. Let him know you're there, but keep it down. Be prepared for anything you may see in there. He probably won't respond. Are you sure you can handle this?"

Both boys' backs stiffened almost imperceptibly. Tea grabbed their arms to stop them doing anything rash.

The nurse surveyed their grim faces and once again almost smiled. "Well, get in there."

Joey and Tea obeyed; Tristan spun around just outside the door. "Will Mr. Moto be back at six? I need to tell him something . . . "

Tea didn't hear the nurse's answer. Once within Yugi's hospital room, all sound seemed to be shut out. There was barely enough room for two beds and three people, but the second bed was unoccupied, and they made use of that. Joey took the one seat by Yugi's bed, seemingly unsurprised to see his best friend so frail and vulnerable. Tea caught a glimpse of his face as he turned to set the Puzzle on the small bedside table, his eyes dark with anger and worry.

She herself settled on the empty bed, knowing she should not be so shocked at the sight of Yugi so still, with tubes snaking in and around his body. She had seen him, after all, in the helicopter; but maybe it was the sort of thing you never got used to.

Tristan shut the door behind him when he came in and perched of the far end of her bed, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hey, buddy," Joey was saying in a low voice. "Guess what I brought? Your Millennium Puzzle. You gotta get well soon so's you can tell us why you left it behind. And so that the Pharaoh can kill you. An' I've got your deck here." He drew it out of his pocket and laid it gently next to the Puzzle. "Your Kuriboh's really somethin', you know that? I'd almost swear he's human . . . "

When Joey finally stopped talking, Tristan picked it up. "You'll never guess who's offered to pay your hospital bills. No, actually, you're probably the only one who _would_ think of him . . ."

The first words out of Tea's mouth when her turn came were, "I'm sorry . . .

Taking turns, laughing, crying, interrupting, they talked for the whole four hours.

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"Earth to Joey!" Standing outside the hospital doors, Tea waved her phone in Joey's face. "It's for you."

"Oh, no!" Joey stared at the cell phone in horror. "The last time someone else's phone was for me, it was . . . not a pleasant experience."

"Joey," Tea said impatiently, "that was me. And this – "

"And me," Tristan put in.

"And," Joey pointed out darkly, "you were both the bearers of very bad news."

"It's your _sister!"_ Tea yelled and shoved the phone at him.

Stupefied, Joey took it. "Serenity?"

"Joey!" Yes, that was his sister all right. "I left you, like, fifteen messages and you never called back!"

"Sorry, haven't been home."

"So where _are _you? Are you alright? I get a very disturbing phone call from Tristan Taylor and then no-one ever calls me back – "

"Tea said she'd call you."

"A day later! And she says you've gone off again and then I get absolutely no news for like three entire days – "Suddenly her voice took on a softer tone. "I was _worried _about you, Joey."

Joey smiled to himself. Whatever the circumstances, it was good to hear his sister's voice. "No need, Serenity. I'm okay." He yawned. "Maybe a little tired."

"You're always tired.," Serenity said, amused. "So are you back yet?"

"Yeah."

"In Domino?"

"Yeah."

"So why didn't you call? When did you get in?"

"About one o'clock this morning."

"You should have called," she accused.

Joey groaned. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry! I shoulda called." When arguing with women, he had learned through experience, the only way to end it was complete capitulation. Particularly with Serenity. Or Tea. Or Mai. Or – any of them.

"So why didn't you?" his sister asked.

"I didn't think. I was busy. And sleep deprived. Pacing a hallway takes a lot of concentration, you know."

Serenity said fondly, "Joey, you're an idiot."

Joey felt a grin spread over his face, the first real one since Cintya had quit the duel. "Thanks, I love you too."

"So how's Yugi?"

It was crazy how fast a smile could disappear, taking with it the bottom of his stomach. "Not good. He hasn't woken up. In days."

"I know it's been days." Serenity sighed. "Oh, Joey. I'm sorry." She was silent for a moment; Joey knew she was thinking of the gift Yugi had once given her.

"If you see him . . . " she began hesitantly.

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow. Could you tell him . . . tell him I can see the buttons on the telephone. And the trees outside. And the stupid news on TV. Tell him I am so, so grateful."

Around the lump in his throat, Joey managed to say, "Sure, sis. I'll tell him."

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"Seto!" Cintya called as the person in question hurried through his outer office. "Phone."

"I'm busy," he said absently. "Take down the number." He shouldn't have to tell her this, he thought, opening the door to his private office and setting his briefcase on the desk. Cintya was a quick learner. After only one day on the job, she knew the ins and outs of the office better than any of the previous secretaries.

He looked up, startled, as she slammed a piece of paper onto his desk. "It's eight in the morning," she said, entirely too cheerful for that hour. "You can't be in the middle of anything. Call."

"Is that an order, ma'am?" Seto inquired with what he considered to be biting sarcasm.

"Yes," Cintya said, unfazed. She was used to him, Seto mused. And he was already used to her as well . . . To his own surprise, he picked up his phone, squinted at her neat handwriting, and began to dial. He glanced up at her as he put the phone to his ear, as if to say, _see what you made me do?_

She smirked at him and shut the door behind her. Seto sat down, vaguely disgruntled that he had let her bully him, but also strangely pleased.

"Hello?" said the voice on the other end.

"Seto Kaiba," Seto said brusquely. _I know that voice . . . _He peered at the paper Cintya had given him. "You called, Michael?" He had all but forgotten about the man who had freed Mokuba.

"Yeah," Michael said, "and I'll make it quick. I just wanted to thank you for taking care of my sister."

Seto puzzled over this for a moment, then dicided to be frank. "I don't even know you _had _a sister."

He heard Michael let out a startled laugh. "I guess I never really introduced myself. Michael Kabat."

"Kabat," Seto repeated dumbly. "You and Cintya . . . "

"That's her. We have our father's last name. Mother Dearest kept her own."

"You're Cintya's _brother?"_

"Didn't I just say that?"

"Not in so many words." Seto's brain was starting to work again. "So you're all three of you related?"

"A happy little family," Michael said dryly. "My father died when I was fifteen. Cintya was five."

"I thought you were an employee," Seto said honestly.

Michael chuckled. "My mother certainly treated me like one. I had been living in America for a time. My criminal knowledge was of more use to her than the fact that I was her son."

"Why did you come back?"

"When your twelve-year-old sister calls you, crying, and begs you to come home because she's afraid of your mother . . . " Michael's voice trailed off. "Well, what would _you _do?"

Seto stared aimlessly at the frosted glass of his office door, hearing Cintya's laugh ring out from the other side. "I'd do whatever it took to keep her safe," he answered quietly.

"I knew I could count on you." Michael sounded satisfied. "I'm going back to America now. Very good betting pool on the Yankees."

"I didn't hear that."

"Thanks. And thanks again for taking care of my sister."

Seto fingered the card locket around his neck. "We're even. You took care of my brother."

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Five-thirty in the afternoon. Tristan had gone for food – real food, not hospital crap – and Tea had inexplicably fallen asleep, leaving Joey essentially alone with the sleeping Yugi. Whatever the doctors had him on kept him still and quiet; he looked as though he were merely sleeping. Still, Joey couldn't help but wonder if Yugi always looked so vulnerable when he slept.

He thought back to countless sleepovers, adventures, times he had woken Yugi out of a sound sleep. Times they had both nodded off in the back row of British Lit. Strange that he could not remember Yugi ever being like this.

Joey felt that he should be using this time to say something, something special, something that would bring Yugi back to them. He waited for words to come, miraculously, from above.

Nothing happened.

Dropping his head into his hands, Joey stared dully at the floor. Unfortunately, said floor was boring. The thoughts in his head were not; but they mostly concerned worry, fear, anger, vague panic, and a fierce protectiveness. That last was largely pointless, since illness was obviously not something one could be protected _from,_ and the whole mess of emotions was not something Joey wanted to examine, now or ever.

"Yug," he started, both to get his mind off itself and to say something before Tristan returned.

He babbled inanely for a few moments about Serenity's call, which he had already mentioned; about the crazieness of females in general; about how good a duelist that Cintya really was. He fell silent when Tea yawned and turned over on the spare bed without waking up. He looked at her, then down at his hands, then at Yugi again.

"You gotta pull through this, buddy," he said with an unusual quiet intensity, "'cause if you don't . . . I dunno what I'll do."

There it was: the truth.

A minute later, Tristan bustled in, dropping a McDonald's bag into his lap and grumbling, "Man, next time _you're _standing in that line . . . "

Joey automatically reached for a fry. Somehow, he didn't think the food had anything to do with the fact that he no longer felt quite so empty.

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Tea had only been awake long enough to make a face at the sheer amount of food the boys were scarfing down when a doctor and several medical students entered the room in a flutter of papers and rustle of scrubs. It was a tight fit; Joey and Tristan promptly scrambled for the nearest wall. Tea remained on the empty bed away from the crush of people, hoping they wouldn't be kicked out. Not that this was a barrel of fun or anything, but she knew perfectly well that if she had been anywhere else, she would be wishing to be here.

The doctor – dark-haired, whose name Tea ought to have remembered but didn't – was busily consulting the chart at the foot of Yugi's bed and checking the output of the heart monitor and various other instruments. He pointed to something on the chart and said, "Looks good, doesn't it?"

The students nodded importantly. Tea's heart leapt; Joey caught her eye and grinned in relief.

"What about that?" a girl at the front of the group asked, pointing at the heart monitor.

"Ah, yes, that we should be worried about," the doctor said.

"Say what?" Joey demanded.

The doctor spoke to his students as though the three agitated teenagers were not there. "The stress of the illness has put a strain on his heart."

Tea looked at the monitor. She had become so used to the incessant beeping that she hadn't noticed when it had gotten erratic.

She paid no more attention to the doctor's words; the intense expressions on Joey's and Tristan's faces told her that they, at least, were listening. Tea couldn't think. A thin blanket of panic separated each thought from the next.

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They had been kicked out into the hallway.

Tristan leaned against the wall, tapping out an irritable rhythm with his knuckles. He looked first to Joey, who was pacing a very short stretch of floor and probably making himself dizzy, then to Tea, who looked back at him from next to Yugi's door with wide eyes.

The anonymous doctor hadn't even gotten a chance to leave before a high-pitched whine had pierced the room. Seconds later, yet more hospital staff had crowded in, shoving the three of them out in the process. That had been exactly seven minutes ago; Tristan was keeping time.

The sliding of the elevator doors caught their attention. Grandpa Moto started down the hall, saw them standing there, and froze. Joey got to him first and related the story in a very quick monologue. When Mr. Moto looked at him in confusion, Tea clarified without moving, ending with, "And now we have no idea what's happening, and – "

She broke off with a yelp as the old man unceremoniously relieved her of the position by his grandson's door. And then there were four people waiting anxiously for news.

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Joey thought he was going to go mad. The silence was terrible. Awful. It made him want to scream. In a hospital. So he must be going crazy.

"Totally, completely loony," he muttered, jerking around to pace the other way. He was saved the trouble of explaining why he was talking to himself when the door to Yugi's room swung open, nearly hitting him on the nose.

A severely miffed Grandpa Moto extricated himself from behind said door, and all four watched in silence as medical personnel began to file out. The kind nurse, the one who had let them in the day before, noticed them and smiled. "It's all right," she said, speaking to Yugi's grandfather but including the teenagers in her gaze. "Would you like to speak privately, Mr. Moto . . . ?"

"Let them hear," the old man said impatiently, waving a hand. "Just tell me."

"As you wish. We had a bit of a crisis, but it's fine and his heart is beating normally now. I'd expect him to wake up within the next twenty-four hours or so. We'll keep a close eye on him for a few days, but . . . I think it's safe to say you can breathe again."

Joey heard sighs of relief from all around him. He felt light-headed. Until just now, he had not noticed how very tight his chest had been.

Ten blurry, happy minutes later, he, Tristan and Tea were once again standing by the doors of the lobby while Grandpa stayed with Yugi. This time, sun was screaming through the windows. The light bounced off Tea's hair as Tristan spun her around for no particular reason, other than that Yugi was okay and they were finally free of worry. Joey waited until her feet touched the ground, then took his turn. When she put her down, she stumbled away, laughing.

"Guys! You made me dizzy."

"You're always dizzy," Tristan said.

Tea shoved him as Joey chuckled and yawned. "I think I'm gonna go to sleep."

Both Tea and Tristan seemed to find this incredibly funny. "It's not even six," Tea pointed out.

"You forget that I am highly skilled at fallin' asleep in the middle of the day."

"Meaning," Tristan said, "during class."

"'S an art," Joey said solemnly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Tristan repeated, grinning.

Tea giggled. "Tomorrow."

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_Two weeks later_

"And that," Cintya said grandly, "brings you down to 300 life points. Give up?"

"No way." Yugi studied his cards and the table, the Millennium Puzzle safe around his neck once more. He smiled slightly as he listened to what the Pharaoh had to say.

Tea was sitting next to Cintya in the booth at Burger Palace. "Watch it," she told the older girl. "Yugi's got a knack for winning when you least expect it."

"That's okay," Cintya said. "So do I."

Joey and Tristan were peering at Yugi's hand from the booth behind him. Joey grinned smugly at Cintya, who made a face at him and pulled her vibrating cell phone from her hip pocket. Tristan looked rather confused.

"Hello?" Cintya answered her phone. "Yes, Seto, I mailed Mr. Anderson the proposal . . . No, I changed the wording a bit to make it more diplomatic . . . you'll thank me later. I'm dueling Yugi . . . what do you mean, Yugi who? . . . Why are we dueling?" She glanced around at the others.

"Because it's completely pointless," Joey suggested.

Cintya laughed. "Joey says, 'because it's completely pointless,'" she repeated into the phone. "_I _think it's a perfectly good reason . . . you should try it sometime. C'mon, you and I can duel Yugi and Joey . . . fun, you dolt. Oh!" Her eyes went wide. "Well, _you're _certainly the master of the quick subject change . . . yes, I'd love to go out for dinner tomorrow night." She caught Tea's gaze; the other girl yelped and clapped both hands over her mouth. "Wow, I – alright, bye." She snapped her phone shut. "I think he's embarrassed."

"Congratulations!" Tea squealed. "You know, I think you're the first person he's ever asked out . . . "

"He'll probably end up calling it a business dinner," Cintya said, laughing self-consciously.

"I," Tristan interjected, "don't see how this is a good thing."

"He's very good-looking," Tea said staunchly.

"You're good for him, Cintya," Yugi remarked, laying down a series of cards. "Oh, and by the way" – he slipped a final trap into place – "I attack."

Flustered, Cintya studied the table, considered her hand, and gracefully conceded defeat.

"Tough luck," Tea said sympathetically.

Cintya shrugged. "It's okay. I can always try again."

_--finis—_

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_Finally! The monster (for me) fic is done! Yesssssss!_

_On a calmer note, this marks the end of my probably last Yugioh fanfic. Sorry anime fans, but I'm emphatically not an _otaku. _Sadly, Yugioh is losing its appeal for me. I may do a couple oneshots (Seto needs some romance), but that'll be about it. I shall be devoting myself in the future to Harry Potter and possibly the Lord of the Rings. So _Sayonara, _and make me happy – you know how!_


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